


Illuminating Heaven

by sub_textual



Category: Naruto
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Canon, Blindness, Love, M/M, Post-Canon, Teacher-Student Relationship, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 04:32:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 41,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sub_textual/pseuds/sub_textual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No one ever knew what it was they saw, two men who watched each other across the battlefield, communicating in red and black. Matching eyes that no one else had or really could understand." -- Kakashi'd wondered when and if he'd ever encounter his prodigal former student again, but never expected it to be quite like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Night

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written in 2009, way before Sasuke really went batshit insane. So consider this fic as belonging to an alternate post-canon where the Fourth Great Ninja War never occurred and where Sasuke wasn't -quite- as crazy as he is in 2012. And also did not have Itachi's eyes or Susanoo or anything else that occurred after April 2009.

"Fuck."

The single expletive came out in a quiet hiss, but fell unheard as Kakashi's trembling fingers moved in a way that was purely instinctual -- tugging and pulling at wet fabric colder than the bitter bite of the air itself, sending sharp needles of pain coursing through bared skin where it made contact.

It was the kind of cold that made it hard to breathe. The kind that locked up lungs and strickened throats with a single breath of painfully drawn in winter, sinking into the bones and winding tight through muscle, leaving fingers clumsy, locking up and slipping as they went numb. Chakra shot through them to counter the frostbite that threatened to form as the last remaining article of soaked clothing was successfully divested off a body shivering so violently, those seismic quakes might've been mistaken for seizures if Kakashi didn't know any better.

It wasn't supposed to end up like this.

Nowhere in the details of the scroll that laid out his solo unranked mission to Snow Country, one that resulted in a successful assassination of a power-hungry general planning a coup d'etat of the empress's throne, did it mention that someone would be breaking into the same complex Kakashi was escaping from. Nor did it mention that the break-in would accidentally trigger the complex's security systems at the point of breach, sending soldiers and ninja alike scrambling into action.

With alarms blaring at his back, he fled under the subterfuge of night, the trees swallowing him in their darkened embrace as a rumble precipitated into a roar. Kakashi didn't need to cast a backwards glance to know the complex had collapsed. He could feel the fire and chakra licking at his back and only vaguely wondered just what on earth, besides Konoha's number one loudest and most surprising ninja, had that much chakra to eviscerate an entire military and ninja-guarded complex.

It was only half an hour later, when Kakashi stopped to refill his canteen downstream to prepare for the long journey home, was that question answered. The river ran red and the muted acridity of smoke began to drift his way, the precursor to a grisly discovery he braced himself to expect. He saw the red and white crest first, only realizing a heartbeat later just what exactly he was looking at -- Uchiha Sasuke's limp body folded over a log floating quickly downstream.

He looked broken.

How many years had passed since that day when Akatsuki and Taka swooped down in an attempt to crush Konoha? The intensity of Naruto's anger and the thickness of Amaterasu's black smoke; Sasuke's escape from Fire Country and subsequent disappearance -- Kakashi'd wondered when and if he'd ever encounter his prodigal former student again, but never expected it to be quite like this.

The sharp swirl of Sharingan; the smell of sweat and metal and the intensity of a killing intent -- this was the expected, predicted scenario, one that most likely would've penned the last chapter of the Copy Ninja's life, with the proverbial conclusion of the student surpassing the teacher. Not the current scenario of the student crumpled over a log, slowly slipping under the dark current of water that carried him, as the teacher silently watched.

It would've made sense to just let him go, to let him drown, or die of hypothermia. A sad end to an even more desolate story. It would've made even more sense to pluck Sasuke's unconscious form off the log and drive a kunai home. But Kakashi found himself molding chakra into his feet and walking across the water to stop the log, carefully hoisting Sasuke out of the freezing water and into his arms instead.

It only took one good look at Sasuke's face, illuminated by moonlight, for the jounin to make his decision.

He tried to tell himself it was for Naruto's sake.

It may have just been a trick of the milky light that washed over gentle features, but in that moment, Kakashi saw with clarity, the sleeping face of a twelve year old genin he once thought he could save.

~

The security of the cave could be compromised, but Kakashi had no time to spend perfecting a more complex barrier seal to ward off intruders.

Sasuke trembled under his touch as he rolled him onto the bedroll and folded the top half of the blanket over him. The sheen of blood glistening under thick black eyelashes was a good indication of what had managed to render him unconscious -- overuse of Sharingan. How he ended up in the river -- well, that was more of a mystery, but Kakashi didn't spend too much time wondering as he carefully tended the flames of the freshly jutsu-lit fire he'd started, just a few feet away from Sasuke's unconscious form, before moving back to the boy's side.

Under the glow of the firelight, the ashen tinge of hypothermia had crept into the surface of Sasuke's skin, leaving him pallid and shivering, pale lips parted to drag in quivering shallow breaths that sounded both desperate and painful. Even tucked between the thick layers of the bedroll with the fire close by, Kakashi knew if he didn't act quickly, the likelihood of recovery without medical ninjutsu would be dramatically low, and even then, the possibility of irreversible damage to vital organs was high.

Hypothermia was a kiss of death that crept in slow -- sliding through the skin and deep into the body's core, slowing down the body's ability to function until internal mechanisms failed, followed by major organs.

It was a merciful death -- unlike the painful endings on battlefields ninja expected, Sasuke's pulse and respiration would simply slow until his organs ceased functioning, and death would claim him moments later. There would be no pain -- or even awareness of life slipping away degree by degree.

 _The past always finds ways to repeat itself doesn't it..._ Kakashi sighed, the irony of the situation certainly not escaping him.

~ 

"Sensei... c-c-co-cold..." Kakashi's teeth chattered almost as violently as the trembles that passed through his body, the blizzard outside roaring almost as loudly as the thunder of his heart. Nausea passed through him in slow waves as he tried to draw himself closer to the fire Minato had just ignited, limbs akimbo when he found his arms and legs unwilling to cooperate enough for him to drag himself closer. The edges of his vision were hazy and myopic, dark holes tearing through the light as he stared numbly at the fire, half-spoken consonants and vowels falling in a mashup of language that made no sense but conveyed his confusion with its very tone.

"Kakashi-kun, can you hear me?" Minato's voice cut through the fog gently, and the boy could only moan softly in response.

Only half an hour had passed since they trekked under the cover of blizzard across the frozen river in a two-person reconnoissance mission in Water Country when they were ambushed by a squad. Kakashi barely had time to react before a hand broke through the ice and grabbed his ankle, jerking him downwards into dark, freezing water, taking a shot of paralyzing chakra straight to the chest that rendered him useless -- and unconscious. When he came to, his teacher's worried face transformed into a relieved smile, and it took only a moment for Kakashi to realize that Konoha's Yellow Flash had defeated the squad and found them shelter.

But that momentary realization was far overshadowed by his inability to feel his hands or feet, and by the gripping, paralyzing cold that stabbed through him so deeply he was certain it was some kind of jutsu cast by the ninja that had knocked him out in the first place.

"You have hypothermia. I'm sorry if this is going to make you uncomfortable, but I'm going to need to take your clothes off," Minato calmly explained as his fingers moved to peel wet, freezing fabric off his student's body before it drained any more body heat.

Stripped nude and tucked into a bedroll close to the fire, Kakashi found no respite from the cold that emanated from deep within, and with each moment that passed, he grew drowsier and weaker, barely noticing when Minato helped him lift his head and forced him to drink down warm water that had little effect on the deep chill within him.

It was only when his teacher slid into the bedroll with him moments later, that he realized just how hot Minato's skin was, and wondered deliriously if he had a fever. But the warmth felt so good as it soaked into him that in the protective ring of his teacher's arms, he closed his eyes and fell asleep, his nose pressed against the burning curve of Minato's throat.

~

Kakashi let out another sigh as he rose and began to strip, pulling his vest off of him to set on the floor next to the pile of Sasuke's clothing. Watching his unconscious former student warily, he paused in his motions to move back over to the Uchiha, realizing that it would probably be wise to seal his chakra lest he wake later and decide to attack in such close proximity.

Even if the veteran jounin was saving his life, Sasuke was no longer the twelve year old boy who once looked up to Kakashi for strength and support. He was a man now at eighteen, as unpredictable as he was dangerous, and quite possibly stronger than the man who was saving his life.

Pulling back the cover of the bedroll to expose Sasuke's bare chest, the Copy Ninja uncovered his Sharingan, crouched down on one knee and quickly began the process of chakra sealing -- writing the necessary elements on a chest struggling for breath in his own blood with a finger, realizing just how cold his former student's skin already had become. The very act of sealing could possibly kill Sasuke, but Kakashi was willing to take that chance.

"Don't die on me now, Sasuke," he murmured before he rushed through the seals, gathering blinding white chakra into his fingertips and stabbing it straight down into Sasuke's prone body with a single command of "SEAL!" at his lips, watching carefully as the boy jerked and seized in response to the chakra rushing into him. The seal's elements swirled around the vortex of chakra before the light dissipated and the seal settled securely in place. Kakashi relaxed as he slowly pulled his hand away, both relieved and amazed by Sasuke's resilience.

But just as quickly as that relief swept through, the boy's throat suddenly gave slight gurgle and Kakashi's uncovered eye widened as he quickly moved to turn Sasuke onto his side just as blood trickled out of his lips and onto the bottom layer of the bedroll underneath him, his breathing ragged and wet. Kakashi's pulse raced almost as quickly as his mind in realization that blood was clogging Sasuke's airways, and with one hard open-handed hit delivered directly to a shivering back, he forced a cough out of him -- as well as the last of the blood and sputum.

"Just bear with it a little more..." Kakashi wasn't sure why he was offering words of reassurance when Sasuke was clearly unconscious. He chalked it up to habit or impulse, and rose once more, divesting layer by layer of clothing at lightning speed until he stood in just his underwear, mask, and hitai-ate.

Well, this... was certainly going to be awkward.

There they were, student and teacher. And only one of them was wearing any underwear. Wonderful.

He might've cracked a joke at the other's expense that went along the lines of _I'm saving your life, so please don't mistake me for a peverted old man and report me to Hokage-sama by messenger for molestation_ in order to lighten the mood if the situation was any different, or if the boy was conscious. But as it were, Sasuke's respiration sounded strained, and Kakashi didn't have time to even think as he flew into action -- only pausing to moisten the edge of his shirt sleeve with water before slipping into the bedroll with Sasuke and tugging the cover over them, moving them so that the boy's back was to the warmth of the fire, and his front was against Kakashi's own.

Pressed flush against his former student, Kakashi could feel how cold Sasuke's skin truly was, could sense every uncontrollable tremble that passed through the other's body and into him. He wound an arm around a trembling frame and pulled him in closer, drawing up the moistened shirt sleeve between them to carefully clean away the blood that lined an eye and chin before tucking Sasuke under his chin, feeling the press of a cold nose against the warm curve of his neck, breath puffing against his skin.

The jounin's fingertips trailed over scars that lined Sasuke's strong back. Here was a battlefield of history, etched deep into skin and raised in angry scar tissue that spoke of just how much the Uchiha had endured in their years apart. He could feel the strength those muscles contained as he slowly let his hand travel down the length of back in a gesture he hoped felt soothing as the heat from his palm slowly warmed the cool terrain underneath it.

Sasuke had grown so much since he'd left -- both physically and as a shinobi. There was very little about him that bore any resemblance to the twelve year old that once looked up at Kakashi over webbed fingers and said, "I can't really call it a dream... but I have an ambition. The resurrection of my clan and... to kill a certain man."

That boy -- the one who once dreamed, the one who on occasion had tried to stifle the bloom of a smile into the tight-lipped press of a smirk, the one who guarded his passionate disposition under an icy layer of cool resolve -- the boy Kakashi had worked so hard to save and teach the value of friendship and reliance on true strength -- had disappeared years ago, smothered out by the flames of vengeance and a desperate obsession with growing more powerful than his brother.

The cool, lithe trembling body he held in his arms certainly wasn't a boy, but a man, yet Kakashi found it difficult to think of Sasuke as anything other than a boy, even when logic dictated differently. He tried to tell himself it was the way Sasuke's face still contained traces of lost innocence in a jawline that sloped gently instead of cutting sharp; a face that contained a delicate beauty in features that seemed so gentle when he slept. It was a face not yet grown out of the puerile grasps of youth into the hardened roughness synonymous with being a man.

Yet the body pressed against Kakashi's own spoke a different story. Sasuke was all sinewy muscle and power compacted into a frame that was deceptively lean and slender, but bristled with strength that waited impatiently at the very edge of release just under the surface. He was fire and lightning and genius talent, his blood thickened by betrayal, his resolve strengthened by eyes that had seen too much horror at too young an age. And it was this resolve that shaped his body, sculpted it into the form of a battle-hardened shinobi who didn't know what it meant to give up.

It was this body that drew strength from Kakashi's own, that stole his heat as heartbeats thrummed chest to chest. It might've been this brief symbiosis which regulated the rhythm of their breaths -- Sasuke breathed in when Kakashi breathed out. Inhale, exhale, repeat.

When the jounin finally noticed, he intentionally held his breath to break up that steady flow, but found himself falling right back in place with his next breath, and resigned himself to breathing in the same rhythm as the boy who was not quite a man in his arms whose shivers had finally stopped as the bitterness of the cold within him slowly thawed.

It was too early to be relieved, but Kakashi allowed himself to relax a little, letting the tension slowly ease out of his shoulders and into the simple comfort of holding Sasuke this close.

He may have failed Sasuke once before, but he wouldn't fail him now.

Not this time.

* * *


	2. The First Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How many years had passed since that day when Akatsuki and Taka swooped down in an attempt to crush Konoha? The intensity of Naruto's anger and the thickness of Amaterasu's black smoke; Sasuke's escape from Fire Country and subsequent disappearance -- Kakashi'd wondered when and if he'd ever encounter his prodigal former student again, but never expected it to be quite like this.

The air was too warm and Konoha surrounded and filled him at every turn.

Sasuke wished he could hold his breath to stop himself from breathing it in, that scent of warm bark and moist grass mingling with damp earth, heady with the sharpness of a fresh rainfall that left the air heavy and humid. It made him think too much, made him remember a time when things were simpler, when everything made sense. It reminded him of the strangest things -- Naruto facedown in a rice paddy and unapologetically covered in mud; Sakura's arms so willow-thin around his waist; the feeling of Kakashi's large, strong calloused hand brushing through his hair and causing an inexplicable tingling in his chest -- the pride of being acknowledged, most likely; that itchy feeling of laughter caught in a throat before it spilled over. 

They always visited him in his sleep, even when he told them not to. 

He tried to hold his breath but found himself drinking in that scent and told himself the lump in his chest was just a rock, that bridges burnt were safer than those forged from precarious rope that would fray anyway. Wood would crack and give way underfoot. Better to destroy it, to let it go. Rocks were too much hassle, and even then, the elements eroded them until they crumbled underfoot. 

There was nothing guaranteed in the world except for the self standing on an island, hands buried too deep in all the things he couldn't change and all the things he wished he could. 

He tried to hold his breath but Konoha kept rushing in, filling his lungs. Konoha kept rushing in, and he wondered if he'd asphyxiate on that scent of home. 

~

When Sasuke opened his eyes, looked up and saw the blurry vision of a familiar mask-clad jawline and a shock of silver hair, he knew that he was dreaming. What was Kakashi doing here, with skin too warm and breathing in the same rhythm as he was? There was a sense of quiet security and lazy indifference to his surroundings that felt more reassuring than letting out a breath held in too long, and Sasuke was positive he was dreaming. 

As he made a soft, sleepy sound and burrowed closer against that too-warm body against him, breathing in that warm, masculine scent of Kakashi and the underlying notes of Konoha, he thought to himself that it wasn't such a bad dream after all. 

~

When Sasuke opened his eyes a second time, he wondered just where the fuck he was, why the hell he was so warm, and where did that scent of roasted fish come from? His vision was foggy, but that was nothing new. What was new was the headache that pounded at his temples and throbbed at the back of his eyes, stemming from the searing pain that emanated from his left eye. What was also new was that he was apparently hallucinating or trapped in genjutsu, because Kakashi was sitting there across the fire, calmly reading _Icha Icha Violence_. 

He watched him for a moment, taking in the sight of the illusion sitting perfectly slouched and lazy like Kakashi always was. The man never seemed to summon up enough energy to straighten that spine when there was no reason for it. The set of his shoulders were relaxed and lopsided as he held the book open with a thumb creasing the pages, his elbow resting on his knee. 

Using his arm as a buttress and pushing himself up into a seated position, Sasuke winced as pain stabbed through his eyes and rendered him momentarily blind, forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment as he pressed the heels of a hand gingerly against his throbbing eyelids. 

"Good morning, Sasuke-kun," came Kakashi's voice, as gentle and calm as it was indifferent. 

Apparently, the hallucination or genjutsu was talking to him. Great. 

"Don't call me Sasuke-kun," he growled in response, pressing his hands together to form the seal that would dispell the illusion. But when he tried to draw up enough chakra to dispell it, Sasuke discovered that he couldn't even _sense_ his chakra, let alone mold it. He looked up at the Kakashi illusion with a quiet, calculating look, a frown stitched between his eyebrows. 

Kakashi's uncovered eye arced gently over the lowered edge of his book. He was vaguely amused that his former student believed that he was caught in a genjutsu (after all, since when were genjutsu this harmless?) and almost entertained the notion of playing into it a little, if he weren't more concerned about that wince and the way Sasuke's hand moved to his eyes moments ago. "Ah, sorry, old habits die hard," he paused. "Sasuke-kun." 

He didn't sound sorry at all. 

"Oh. You probably shouldn't move much yet," Kakashi tacked on casually before Sasuke had a chance to open his mouth and object. "Your body needs more rest." 

"Don't tell me what my body needs." Sasuke's voice was as quiet as it was dangerous, and he slowly started to shift out of the bedroll despite the itchy, painful pins and needles that shot through the tips of toes and fingers -- only to discover that he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing. If he had any doubt that this was an illusion before, this new discovery confirmed that it most certainly was. 

He remembered the alarms; the sudden descent of soldiers and ninja alike; the springing of traps and the clashing of steel, the chirping of one thousand birds to counter what felt like one thousand opponents rushing him at once. The black flames of Amaterasu rose harsh behind him as he escaped through fortified security gates and finally through a monster that rose up before him to stop him; a monster born and bred right in those military laboratories he had broken into. Then, overwhelming pain avalanched his eyes and the world went dark just moments before he plunged into water so cold it stole his breath. 

Suddenly it all made sense -- the enemy must have captured him and forced him into some kind of strange genjutsu that conjured up Kakashi. The type of genjutsu his subconscious produced to fabricate someone he could trust and confide in. If he'd dreamed about Naruto earlier, Naruto most likely would've been sitting here looking at him over the fire instead of Kakashi, saying something like, "Na, na, na, Sa-su-ke~ what were you doin' breaking in like that???!" in his overly loud voice. 

Sasuke's eyes narrowed as he evaluated the space between them instinctually when the illusion shifted close enough to be just an arm's stretch away -- knowing that he'd be just be wasting energy if he attacked him (after all, Kakashi was an illusion, and the sole purpose of illusions was to wear the victim down), frustrated at his lack of chakra to perform something as simple as dispelling a genjutsu (he chalked it up to Amaterasu draining him dry). 

Any moment now, Kakashi would ask him what his purpose was at that military complex. 

"Well, if you want to be that way, you might as well eat. I caught some fish while you were sleeping." Kakashi held out a stick with a roasted fish impaled on it instead, fully expecting Sasuke to take it, as the boy hadn't eaten anything all day and needed metabolic energy to recover. 

But instead of taking the fish, Sasuke's gaze grew harder as he studied the illusion, trying to gauge its true intent. 

Kakashi read distrust and suspicion in Sasuke's eyes, could feel the caution, the walls of protection that his former student threw up, and wondered if he still believed this was all a product of genjutsu. He realized how different Sasuke looked when his eyes were open, finding the juxtaposition of such cutting eyes set in such a gentle face almost jarring -- but then again, the Uchiha had eyes like that from the moment they'd met. Eyes that knew too much, that'd seen too much. 

The jounin sighed softly and kept the fish extended towards Sasuke, who made no movement to take it. "Sasuke, you realize if the enemy really wanted to force information from you, there are easier ways to do it than genjutsu, and they all involve extreme pain." 

But Sasuke'd already convinced himself otherwise and decided that if he didn't have enough chakra to dispell the illusion, then he'd do it with pain. Without a weapon at his disposable, he snatched the fish from Kakashi and threw back the top cover of the bedroll with the intent of driving the jagged edge of the stick into his bared thigh, in hopes that the self-inflicted pain would be enough to crack through the genjutsu. But before the stick could connect with his intended destination, Kakashi had moved right in front of him, fingers tight around his wrist. 

"That's enough," the jounin said, his voice steady. Sasuke's eyes blazed up at his and widened in surprise when he met a mismatched gaze, the red and black whorl of the Sharingan swirling slowly, wrapping around him and driving into him as it tore down his defenses. He recognized the technique before his mind could process what was happening. "Go back to sleep, Sasuke." 

He went back to sleep. 

~

When Sasuke opened his eyes a third time, it was with heightened awareness as his guard immediately shot up, eyes moving to locate Kakashi and finding him across the fire, book in one hand and a canteen in another as he sipped water through his mask. He'd woken with a start, ripped straight from the depths of sleep and into full consciousness, the kind of awakening only an artificial rest induced by Sharingan could produce. 

This wasn't an illusion. 

But he was still very much naked. 

For a moment, Sasuke wondered if that dream he had earlier actually happened. He remembered warm skin, strong arms, and the scent of _that place_ and Kakashi filling him and giving him such a strong sense of security, it had to be a dream. 

Kakashi moved without taking his eyes off the page he was reading and held out the canteen he was drinking from to Sasuke, fully expecting him to drink. It'd been nearly a full day since he discovered the boy floating down the river, and he hadn't had a drop of water or a bite of food in all that time. Dehydration was a given, and he wasn't going to take no for an answer. He was relieved when Sasuke didn't put up a fight and took the canteen begrudgingly, drinking from it hungrily. 

He must have been parched. 

"Your fish is probably very overcooked now." 

Sasuke hated how calm Kakashi sounded, how controlled. As though there was nothing strange about being holed up in a cave with Sasuke (a very naked Sasuke, too) and offering him food and water after three years apart, like it was perfectly normal. He hated how Kakashi acted like the world didn't change, like everything had its place in stasis, and wondered if the jounin believed the world spun around them while they still remained the same -- when that couldn't be further from the truth. He wanted to take Kakashi's truth, smash it apart between his hands and show him how quickly it crumbled between his fingers. He wanted to eat, because he was very hungry, but he wasn't about to give into that just yet. 

There were more pressing matters at hand. 

"Why are you here, and where are my clothes?" The questions came out in the form of demands. _"Tell me what the fuck you're doing here. Give me my clothes. Now."_ is what Sasuke said without quite saying it, yet Kakashi heard his impatience just the same. Sasuke watched as Kakashi's lips formed a smile under the mask, like he was amused when there was nothing to be amused by. 

"Why am I here? Ah, well you see, I was taking a nice stroll along the river and saw you swimming in it. You looked like you were trying to do an impersonation of an ice statue, and I thought you could use a thaw," Kakashi drawled in that infuriatingly smooth, calm lazy way of his that sounded as though he was about as interested in having a conversation as he was in pondering the meaning of life. Kakashi didn't ponder the meaning of life. He was too distracted by dirty books. 

Sasuke just stared at him, incredulous. 

Then his brow lowered ever so slightly, eyes narrowed. "My clothes," he said, but this time, it was delivered as a command. 

Kakashi considered all the ways he could respond, ranging from _"A monkey appeared out of nowhere and took them right off your back,"_ to _"You had clothes on to begin with?"_ but didn't think Sasuke's patience would last long enough for that. He decided to go with the truth instead. "You probably shouldn't put them on yet. You'll get hypothermia. Again." 

Sasuke digested his words quietly, and Kakashi watched as confusion settled across the boy's face, his eyes drifting off towards the fire. 

_Hypothermia. Again?_

Suddenly things started to make sense. The drowsy memory of too-warm skin; a large, calloused hand sliding down his back; not being able to breathe anything but the scent of this man watching him like he knew exactly what was going on in his head. Like he expected how Sasuke would react when the pieces finally clicked in place internally and the tide of awareness broke through his dam of disbelief. 

Kakashi watched as the cogs turned in his former student's head, as he suddenly became unguarded with the shocking (and quite possibly incredibly embarrassing) realization smashing through what anger he previously had. Sasuke looked so soft at that moment, with his lips parted slightly in surprise, eyes wide as imagination probably started to sweep in low (maybe he was wondering if there was nothing separating them except for skin the night before, and trying to recall the details despite his inability to do just that). 

Now was a better time than ever to disrupt that train of thought. 

"Oh, by the way. I sealed your katana," the jounin paused once he knew he caught Sasuke's attention -- the boy's eyes snapped back on him once more, but his gaze looked hazy, as though he hadn't quite registered the meaning of the other's words. 

Kakashi's uncovered eye arced then in a gentle smile to prepare Sasuke for the next blow. "And your chakra."


	3. The Second Night: Interstice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How many years had passed since that day when Akatsuki and Taka swooped down in an attempt to crush Konoha? The intensity of Naruto's anger and the thickness of Amaterasu's black smoke; Sasuke's escape from Fire Country and subsequent disappearance -- Kakashi'd wondered when and if he'd ever encounter his prodigal former student again, but never expected it to be quite like this.

Anger tasted metallic.

But that could've just been Sasuke mistaking blood for the virulent emotion that burned low and slow one heartbeat, intense and furious the next. He didn't know when his inner cheek had been caught between the sharpness of his teeth, and hadn't felt any pain, too distracted by the burn that clawed up from the pit of his stomach, destructive and unforgiving, relentless. It ripped up through the bubble of shock that had insulated him, bursting into his chest and squeezing tight around the cavity of his heart before choking the air out of him in a harsh, audible breath.

_"Oh, by the way. I sealed your katana. And your chakra."_

The air trembled, thick with the silence of killing intent that was directed at the man who not only looked at him like he knew what was going on inside his head, but had also taken it upon himself to strip him naked and steal what rightfully belonged to Sasuke. To forcibly take away what he had no right to take away, all whilst looking at him with that air of smug condescension, with a gaze so penetrating it ripped straight through him -- Sasuke stood trembling with fraying restraint, studying the distance between himself and the fucker who'd been self-righteous enough to _seal his chakra._

Attempting to force his breathing into some semblance of control, Sasuke directed narrowed eyes at the jounin. "Unseal it," he demanded, his tone measured and flat.

Sasuke looked like he was about to snap under too much pressure, but Kakashi didn't make a move to change his posture to acknowledge that fact. The waves of killing intent that slammed into him so violently only strengthened the resolve that had gone into his decision. "No," he responded quietly, his voice filled with conviction. "That decision isn't yours to make."

"It isn't _yours_." Before the words were out of Sasuke's mouth, Kakashi had to abandon any hopes of enjoying _Icha Icha_ when faced with a blur of Uchiha coming at him full speed with a fist raised -- one he barely dodged, so fast Sasuke was even without chakra. But that was to be expected -- Kakashi had trained him in taijutsu, after all, and wasn't surprised to discover that Sasuke's skill had dramatically improved in their time apart. Shifting back on his feet, Kakashi quickly brought his arms up to block a roundhouse kick, the force of the blow pushing him back several feet across the rocky ground.

He should've expected this -- Sasuke's short fuse and the knowledge of having his chakra sealed was a combination asking for trouble.

Knowing better than to try to reason with Sasuke, Kakashi shifted into offensive and immediately started to retaliate with taijutsu, delivering a slightly altered version of Konoha Daisenpuu that sent Sasuke flying across the cave only to agilely catch the impact of the landing with a flip that had him back on his feet again. For a moment, Kakashi mused that he probably should've let Sasuke put on his still-damp clothing, considering that the vision of a very naked Sasuke charging at him with killing intent was rather, well... distracting. If not a little entertaining.

This was like a page out of _Icha Icha Violence_ , he realized, with a smirk. "I've had people throw themselves at me before, but not quite... in your state of undress," he drawled, letting his voice drop into a purr, knowing it would infuriate Sasuke even more. Normally, he wouldn't try to piss off his opponent even more, but when Sasuke was clearly outmatched (and underdressed, for that matter), Kakashi simply couldn't help himself.

Before he could get out another word, a streak of dust and anger came flying at him, armed with a burning stick picked up from the fire.

_Uh oh, incoming Uchiha. Time to duck._

Kakashi ducked.

~

Sasuke's breath came in short bursts as he glared at the jounin across the cave, lifting up a hand to wipe sweat out of his eyes.

Fifteen minutes.

For fifteen minutes they'd been fighting, and Kakashi was still matching him blow for blow, never once using weapons, switching into ninjutsu or even uncovering Sharingan. Sasuke, determined to defeat him with taijutsu, hadn't expected his former teacher (though it was difficult to think of him as anything other than the fucker who sealed his chakra) to fight him on even ground. Maybe Kakashi was trying to prove a point, or planned to fight him until he was too exhausted to land another blow, but in the course of their fight, Sasuke's anger had only grown, the fire in his chest giving him the energy needed to will speed into his legs as he burst into another charge.

The hurricane that raged, confined in his chest, a space too small for fury that large, turned anger into spite, and spite into hatred. He'd kill Kakashi to take his power back, to take back what was his, and saw the image of the jounin's neck snapping under his fingers moments before he gave a yell to disorient his opponent, feinting high-speed blow after blow that placed Kakashi in line with the next move.

Checkmate.

The jounin's eye widened and he attempted to block, but Sasuke's Konoha Senpuu connected with a sickening crack, driving the air out of Kakashi's lungs as he flew up in the air, blow after blow stabbing pain through his spine as his body was propelled further up with subsequent kicks, leaving him unable to guard himself. If Sasuke hadn't changed his habits, the next move would be a Shishi Rendan that would hurtle Kakashi to the rocky ground below -- a move that could be potentially devastating.

Well, he'd had fun playing their little game, but it was time to get serious.

With a yell, Sasuke's leg came down on Kakashi's chest, hurtling them both towards the ground at a startling speed. He smirked as he watched the jounin's eye widen in shock as the ground came rushing up at them. This was it. _It's over,_ he thought, as Kakashi's body slammed hard into the ground beneath them, cracking rock with impact, a cloud of dirt and dust flying up around them.

For a moment, Sasuke stared down at his former teacher, triumphant. But his triumph soon gave way to rage when Kakashi vanished into a cloud of air that revealed he'd defeated a rock changed by Kawarimi no Jutsu.

"GOD DAMMIT!" The Uchiha roared as he got up to his feet, eyes scouring the cave for Kakashi -- only to be suddenly caught off guard by a hand around his throat as the Copy Ninja came bursting up through the ground, driving him right into a cave wall with such force, he found himself unable to breathe. He could feel the scratchy material of Kakashi's vest and clothing pressing against his bare skin and the coolness of the wall behind him. He could sense the heat of the other's body so acutely, eyes taking in the sight of sweat rolling down a temple. And when a leg was pressed right between his to force him in place, the sudden sear of unexpected pleasure forced his lips apart in a silent gasp as shocked eyes met a pair of mismatched ones.

For a moment, student and teacher stared at each other, one trying to catch his breath, the other incapable of breathing (and not because of the hand around his throat).

"You know, all you had to do was ask nicely, Sasuke." Kakashi said, his voice hoarse and breathless as he shifted his hand enough to not crush the boy's larynx. Sasuke gaped as he was caught by the spin of the Sharingan, one he identified as genjutsu --

\-- and suddenly, he found himself fully clothed, sitting across the fire, staring at Kakashi, who looked back at him quietly, the red and black whirl slowly coming to a stop.

It was then that Sasuke suddenly realized he could sense his chakra once more, could feel the familiar energy bubbling up within him to fill the vacuous space he'd been experiencing since he first woke. It then occurred to him that with his chakra reserves so depleted from Amaterasu, it would've been easy for Kakashi to keep him trapped in a genjutsu to confuse him.

If this was an attempt at convincing Sasuke to return to Konoha, it sure as hell was a really bad one.

He let out a scoff of derision and rolled his eyes when he realized what he'd been caught in, rising up and adjusting his yukata and the katana at his back. The black cloak he'd worn the night before was nowhere to be seen, but he could make do without it. "Don't get in my way and convince me to return to Konoha. I'm done playing mind games with you, Kakashi."

"I'm not here to play mind games with you, Sasuke," Kakashi said calmly as he rose from the rock he was sitting on, pulling a bit at the gloves on his hands to tug them more firmly in place. "I'm here to stop you from walking out of here."

There it was again. That tone of condescension that made disgust coil in Sasuke's stomach as his gaze cut across the fire at the silver-haired jounin. He sounded as though he knew the outcome of this fight when they hadn't even truly fought. In retrospect, Sasuke realized the benefit of catching him in a genjutsu -- if he was forced to only use taijutsu, it was obvious who the winner would be. Which meant Kakashi was scared of truly fighting him -- and that revelation curled a knowing smirk across the Uchiha's lips.

"Do you honestly think _you_ can beat _me_?" Sasuke almost laughed at the thought, knowing just how ridiculous that idea was. Even if Kakashi could put up a decent fight, Sasuke had defeated both Orochimaru and Itachi -- men who could easily cut his former teacher down to his knees.

"Maa, I suppose we'll have to find out, won't we?" Kakashi mused, canting his head slightly, his eyes glinting sharp from the glow of the fire between them.

"I'll defeat you with Sharingan alone, _Sharingan Kakashi_." Sasuke almost spat out the moniker as his eyes narrowed, fingers curling around the circumference of the weapon's handle as he slowly crouched into position. "I'll show you Sharingan's _real_ power," he said as he activated his Sharingan, leveling a pointed look at the eye Kakashi stole. His look said what he didn't -- stolen power could never compare to Uchiha's true strength.

His words must've had an effect on the older man, because he suddenly tensed up, eyes closing for a moment, a frown stitching its way between his brow.

Sasuke suddenly sensed a change in his opponent's guard and a crack in his defenses. _This is my chance,_ he thought, as he immediately launched himself off the ground and flew through the air, withdrawing the katana in a flash to bring down towards Kakashi's neck, only to meet with a kunai that strained against metal before breaking away and coming back together again in another clash of steel.

Leaping apart from each other, they studied each other warily before sweeping in once more, Sasuke picking up speed and quickly deflecting a rain of shuriken that Kakashi had thrown, gathering chakra in his feet and launching himself up as he resheathed his sword. He blazed through seals at lightning fast speed, then drew chakra into his chest.

"KATON GOUKAKYUU NO JUTSU!"

The cave glowed with a massive fireball that sped towards Kakashi's receding form, only to be stopped by a gigantic wall of mud that Kakashi had conjured with an earth jutsu, immediately followed by a retaliation of stalactites suddenly disconnecting from the cave's ceiling and shooting in Sasuke's direction. Blazing through the same seals his Sharingan had copied from Kakashi moments earlier, Sasuke sped back behind the mud wall which absorbed the impact of the stalactites.

"Is that the best you can do?" Sasuke yelled before he charged Kakashi again, the landscape around him becoming a blur as he swooped in on his opponent from behind, metal clashing again as katana met kunai once more. But this time, a large hand curled around a slender wrist, and with a sharp knee to the stomach and a fist clenched at the back of a yutaka coupled with a sharp yank, Sasuke found himself flying before he crashed into the ground, skidding backwards across cold rock towards the wall.

He tasted anger again in his mouth, could smell it too -- a coppery kind of scent, mixed with sweat and charged air particles as red and black lines of vision clashed -- one gaze narrowed and hard, the other warm and soft around the edges, sympathetic almost. What the hell was Kakashi looking at him like that for in the middle of a fight? Sasuke's eyes narrowed more when he realized the look Kakashi was giving him was pity, and he decided that he'd take that man down with his own jutsu for underestimating him.

Eyes like that didn't belong on a battlefield.

Moving through the seals, Sasuke's fingers curled around his left wrist as he directed lightning chakra to his wrist, one thousand birds chirping as his chakra grew larger and brighter, blue electricity scorching the earth as he watched Kakashi's birds start to take flight, blue-white chakra shooting off his hand.

Kakashi's eyes didn't change, even as Sasuke tensed his legs and began to speed across the cave floor, cutting straight through the rock beneath him as a blur of silver and black and blue-white charged right back at him. Sasuke knew then that two thousand birds would collide, and his birds would overcome his teacher's; his birds had more power, more strength, more chakra -- Kakashi's reserves couldn't possibly compete, and the force of the blow would take him out.

Leaping through the air, the light became blinding, the sound of screeching birds growing into a deafening roar as the space between them eviscerated.

It happened faster than Sasuke could digest -- Kakashi suddenly pulled his hand back, Raikiri disappearing in a flash. Sasuke's eyes widened in shock when he realized he couldn't stop the momentum of his attack; when he couldn't stop his birds from making impact with their final destination; when he couldn't pause time and rewind and figure out just what the fuck had happened or what the hell was going on; when all he could see was his chakra-lit fist driving into his teacher's chest and blood filling his vision. And then his fist shot clean through the other man's chest as chakra burned between them, the scent of blood and Konoha and Kakashi filling up Sasuke and surrounding him.

Kakashi made a sound, one that sounded strangled, and then his knees were giving out. His knees were giving out, and Sasuke was dragged down with him, breath caught in a chest that was far too constricted, heart thundering painfully against his ribcage, so loud he thought Kakashi could hear it. He stared in shock at the man whose chest he'd buried his arm in, not understanding what had just happened, only reading the pain in Kakashi's eyes a moment before they turned into two gentle arcs.

He was smiling.

He was fucking _smiling_.

Sasuke choked on that slow, familiar bitterness that creeped into his chest and rose burning into his throat from the crack Kakashi had managed to create, evading fading flames that tasted like copper and the arctic chill of shock. He could feel hot blood dripping around his arm, shards of bone cutting into flesh, and the slow thud-thud of Kakashi's heart struggling to grasp onto life; he wanted to withdraw, wanted to rewind, wanted to start the fight all over again because when he said he'd show Kakashi Sharingan's _real_ power, this wasn't what he meant.

This wasn't what he meant, but it was too late, and Sasuke suddenly remembered standing on the edge of a demolished Konoha; a Konoha that was no longer Konoha but a pile of rubble and devastation, blood staining streets as far as the eye could see (and he hadn't even been there to see it happen, revenge had been so bittersweet, but that hadn't been the kind of revenge that he wanted).

This wasn't what he meant, but all he could do was kneel there with his arm through Kakashi's chest, the jounin's grip on his shoulders growing weaker, his eyes burning with something he didn't understand as all he could manage to do was form all of his confusion into three words.

" _Why_ would you--" He inhaled sharply when his voice wavered, looking lost and angry and something else all at once. He couldn't verbalize the multitude of feelings that threatened to squeeze their fingers around his throat and suffocate him, couldn't even begin to understand _why --_

\-- when suddenly he saw the swirl of Sharingan once more, the scent of blood receding as Kakashi's scent rushed up, overwhelming and warm, silver hair filling his line of vision. The startling sensation of bare back once again pressed against cool wall was as shocking as the revelation of his arms hanging listlessly by his sides. And then Kakashi's breath ghosted across his ear a moment before he spoke. "Because Raikiri isn't a technique I'd use against someone I consider a friend. And _that's_ why I won't unseal you."

He'd said something like that before, standing on a water tank that'd caught the brunt of Sasuke's Chidori. _"Chidori isn't something you should use against your teammates."_

Clearly, Sasuke hadn't heeded the lesson.

Kakashi sighed as he took a step back away from the trembling boy, half-wondering if maybe he'd overdone it with the genjutsu, studying Sasuke for a moment before he let his hands slip into the pockets of his vest, his shoulders falling back into a slouch. Sasuke looked shell-shocked, but the vivid reaction he'd forced out of his former student had been worth it. Somewhere under the surface of Sasuke's icy demeanor, Kakashi knew he'd be able to find the boy he once taught. The one who'd once allowed himself to dream.

Well, he might as well lecture him now that he had his full attention and was certain he wasn't about to be attacked.

"I don't know what you think you're doing, but you're not going to win if you fight me," the jounin said, his expression taking on a mild frown as his tone became disapproving. "Orochimaru must've really done a number on you, because clearly, your head isn't working. If I hadn't found you, you'd be dead already."

Sasuke just stared at him, almost as though he couldn't believe Kakashi was standing there perfectly unscathed, rubbing a bit at his masked chin with a thumb.

"And in case you forgot, you're a Missing-nin, and by Konoha law, we're supposed to either kill you on sight," Kakashi held up a finger. "Or capture you alive to take back to Konoha for judgment," A second finger went up. "But nowhere does it say that we're supposed to _save your life_ , especially when we're on foreign soil." He paused, for emphasis, watching Sasuke for any kind of reaction. But the boy just stared at him wide-eyed. "I'm pretty sure you don't repay someone by trying to kill them."

For a moment, silence lingered between them as Kakashi watched Sasuke, who stared back at him in disbelief. Was Kakashi really standing there and actually _lecturing him...?_

Kakashi pulled his hitai-ate over his Sharingan and his uncovered eye crinkled with a smile. "So, be cooperative," he said in the same tone as though he were chiding a small boy and telling him to be good. Sasuke might've gotten angry at him all over again, but he was still reeling from all that'd just occurred, and could barely even register when Kakashi's eye dropped casually down the length of his body and settled somewhere below his waist.

"You might want to cover that up," he said with a smirk, two fingers wagging in Sasuke's general direction. "Or you'll catch a cold."

But Sasuke just stared at Kakashi's chest numbly, where the hole should've been. The sensation of blood and bone and Kakashi's slowing heart still felt so vivid, so real, that Sasuke could hardly process the words that were coming out of his former teacher's mouth when he was still trying to sort out the jumble of what-just-happened and the messy pile-up of too many emotions in a crash of what-the-fuck. His fingers trembled at his sides, the ghost feeling of chakra still buzzing through them.

Kakashi looked the boy over and sighed, wondering just how deep that trauma had gone. He closed the distance between them slowly, a hand dropping down on Sasuke's shoulder, causing him to flinch as though he'd just been burned, forcing the jounin to withdraw his fingers for a moment before trying again. And though Sasuke flinched once more, his skin settled under the older man's fingers and Kakashi gently pushed him away from the wall, guiding him back into the bedroll.

When Kakashi offered him fish again, he took it quietly and began to eat, staring at the fire blankly and trying to forget the way Kakashi's heart felt as it started to fail.

* * *


	4. The Second Night: Stasis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi'd wondered when and if he'd ever encounter his prodigal former student again, but never expected it to be quite like this.

Snow fell like thunder -- heavy and loud in earth-shuddering descent.

Sasuke remembered when snow used to fall light and gentle, like confectionary sugar from the sky. He'd open his mouth wide to capture it before it melted. Snow was always so fleeting in Konoha; it never had any permanence when the ground and the people were so warm. Sometimes if he was lucky, he would manage to capture an errant flake or two and think to himself, this is what the sky tastes like.

But here, the snow smelled and tasted like blood. And when he raised his eyes and watched it fall, he saw the world painted in shades of **red** and **black**. The sky split wide above him as the earth cracked below his feet, and Sasuke fell.

 _And he couldn't stop himself; couldn't take it back; couldn't erase the mess he made of blood spilling across the page and filling his eyes as it unfolded before him in a sickening rewind through a record too scratched for the needle to hold steady in its groove._ The sky was tearing apart and Sasuke's fingers couldn't reach far enough to find traction against the unforgiving earth, coming up too short or too late in his efforts to stop the fall. _But then there he was, face turned skywards as he watched Sasuke fall, eyes crinkled in a smile too soft when the snow fell too hard -- splattering against his mask in vivid drops and bleeding **black** into_ **red**.

Sasuke stretched out his arm when Kakashi held out his hand for him to take, and then it happened all over again -- he couldn't stop himself; couldn't take it back; couldn't silence the deafening roar of too much power contained in his hand; the crunch of bone as it shattered, flesh tearing apart as his fist shot right through and a pair of mismatched eyes met his own, silent and shocked-- 

Sasuke jerked back with a gasp caught in his throat, wide eyes taking in the flicker of warm orange against rocky walls as he attempted to calm the roar of a heart knocking too hard within a chest that felt too tight. He forced down the shudder creeping up his spine and slowly, carefully directed his eyes across the dying fire. Kakashi slept undisturbed with his fingers curled near his cheek, using his pack for a pillow and his vest for a poor excuse of a blanket.

For a little while, Sasuke watched as the jounin's chest rose and fell, a strange calm settling across him as he studied the other man's face, noticing for the first time, the way Kakashi's hair slipped carelessly across his forehead and eyes while he slept, thinking just how different he looked at that very moment. How gentle. And as he watched him, the tension tight in his chest slowly eased itself out as his breath fell steady. He fell asleep with warmth wrapped around him in the memory shape of strong arms and bare skin pressed against his own.

_This again._

~

Fear had a particular scent, or so Kakashi thought. It was nearly imperceptible -- a scent that wasn't quite a scent, but one that was charged. He always knew what it was when he breathed it in, because it put him on alert. So when Sasuke woke, Kakashi had already been awake -- it had been the shift in the air that had interrupted his sleep and alerted him of fear emanating from the sleeping boy across the fire. No sooner did he glance over to him did the other wake with a gasp, and at that very moment of awakening, his fear felt almost palpable.

The gasp sounded vulnerable, and it was the vulnerability that he closed his eyes on. Sasuke wouldn't have wanted him to witness that moment of weakness, that floundering of strength -- but there were so many cracks in the too-large armor he wore that Kakashi noticed, yet that was a fact the jounin kept to himself. So he closed his eyes and gave the boy some reassurance when dark eyes slowly turned to study him.

He wondered what it was Sasuke saw in his dreams, and found himself intrigued by the sense of relief he could feel coming from the bedroll as the boy's eyes remained on his face. It took a considerable amount of effort to keep his features lax when it occurred to him that Sasuke most likely just had a bad dream; quite possibly a reliving of the genjutsu.

Oops.

He supposed he should've felt some remorse about overdoing it and giving Sasuke even more mental scarring that he really didn't need. But the way he felt Sasuke's eyes drinking in the sight of him sleeping, and those warm waves of genuine relief that were so strong even he could sense them, reminded him of how right he had been.

There were some people in the village who considered Sasuke a traitor; who labeled him no different than Itachi, relegating him to the same category of Orochimaru: evil, corrupt, and without any hope for change. They were always careful to speak softly, lest they incur the wrath of the soon-to-be sixth Hokage or the Fifth's apprentice, both of whom still insisted on bringing Sasuke home. It was a lifetime promise, Naruto declared. Sasuke was still his brother, however prodigal.

But Kakashi could only look back and recount his failure in misunderstanding the lines that shaped Sasuke's loyalties. It hadn't been to Konoha, but to Uchiha, that Sasuke had staked his entire life upon; and blood was thicker and stronger than the bonds that held Sasuke to the village.

A boy who loved his family enough to dedicate every waking moment of his life to avenging them; a boy who cared deeply enough about those close to him, however irritating they might've been, that he protected them with his body from a rain of senbon; a boy who told others to run from a monster too strong for him to fight when his body was so battered he could barely stand was not a boy Kakashi could ever consider evil or beyond saving.

So when Sasuke's eyes widened in shock even before Chidori punched through his chest, Kakashi knew that the boy he'd always believed in, the boy who was once so much like him, had grown up to be part of the boy he brought down, trembling, to his knees. And when that boy choked out a _why_ shaped with so much emotion, Kakashi decided that for the duration of his mission, he would keep Sasuke by his side and help him realize just where he really belonged.

Even if it meant he had to break him.

~

Fear had a particular scent, or so Kakashi thought. But arousal had an even more distinct one. Where fear was only a prickling of the nostrils and a sharpening of the senses, arousal was unmistakable -- warm and heady, musky like earth. So when Kakashi caught that scent mingling with the smoke from the fire, he grabbed onto it and focused, thinking that it had to be some kind of mistake -- but doing so only sharpened the scent, making it more pronounced. And it was with some surprise that Kakashi opened his eyes to take in the sight of the boy lying in his bedroll.

Apparently, he was having a dirty enough dream Kakashi could _smell_ his arousal.

The jounin's mouth went dry for a moment when he caught sight of the unmistakable bulge in the bedroll, which couldn't possibly be anything other than an erection, and realized that there wasn't anything separating his bedroll from Sasuke's sleek, chiseled body (which, just a night ago, had been pressed shivering against his own, but that clearly wasn't something Kakashi wanted to consider at the moment). And while most would probably consider the difference to be negligible between Sasuke being naked and tucked into his bedroll or _aroused_ and naked and tucked into his bedroll, Kakashi considered the difference to be astronomical.

How Sasuke could go from having a nightmare to having such a raunchy dream that ~~his cock was probably now making a nice little damp spot in Kakashi's bedroll~~ \-- no. Stop. Rewind. How Sasuke could go from having a nightmare to being aroused enough by a dirty dream that Kakashi could smell his arousal over the acridity of smoke _had_ to be a product of being a teenager. There was no other explanation the jounin could think of to rationalize a situation that very much needed rationalizing. Desperately.

For a moment, Kakashi wondered if Sasuke was doing this to him intentionally in retribution for the genjutsu, but when he reached his senses out, he discovered that the boy was sound asleep (...well, most of him).

 _At least one of us is having fun_ , Kakashi dryly thought as he forced his eyes away from the bulge and up to Sasuke's face. This, he discovered, was an even worse idea, as that impertinent mouth which belonged to his former student's was parted in the most lascivious of ways as he drew in little breaths. Unable to stop himself, Kakashi watched as those lips moved slowly in a nearly inaudible sleepy smack. Then, Sasuke made a noise that sounded so soft and whispery and sleepy all at once that Kakashi drew in a sharp breath when he felt an unmistakable twitch in his pants.

This was definitely not a good idea.

Kakashi abruptly turned his back on Sasuke to face the wall instead as he willed his mind into stillness and his thoughts into some semblance of anything that didn't involve Sasuke. Or Sasuke's body. Or how dizzying that scent of arousal was. He focused on channeling calm and thinking of blue skies and grassy fields, letting his body relax as he pictured himself lying on his back and absorbing the warmth of the sun on a hot, lazy afternoon, when the mild scent of that delicious, earthy-sweet musk suddenly crept over his shoulder and back into his senses, shooting straight down to his cock.

Well, fuck.

With a sigh of resignment, the jounin covered the lower half of his face with his hand and closed his eyes.

He always seemed to have the worst luck.

* * *


	5. Exodus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi'd wondered when and if he'd ever encounter his prodigal former student again, but never expected it to be quite like this.

"Rise and shine."

It was the disturbance of air, the rustle of stiff material, that had his eyes snapping open -- before his vision was obscured by something thick and heavy and shockingly cold. Having a pile of clothes unceremoniously dumped on his face was not the way Sasuke would've liked to wake up. With a small irritated growl, he reached up and tugged the fabric down as he pushed himself off the bedroll, blinking the fog out of his eyes. His muscles were humming with sudden tension, body alert as his mind worked to sort through the web of distorted memories.

"We move out in fifteen minutes, so get dressed and have your breakfast."

There Kakashi went again, talking in that infuriating tone that suggested Sasuke had a reason to treat him like a superior. He glanced at the older man, eyes narrowed almost to slits as his mouth tightened. Except, the sight of him triggered a chain reaction of images and memories that came flooding back in the feeling of his hands on him and his cock in him and the sharp points of his teeth at his neck and the cold cave wall against his back and--

Sasuke violently crushed that train of thought. He couldn't _believe_ that he'd had such an explicit dream about the pretentious asshole who held his chakra hostage. Feeling the heat in his cheeks as he flushed slightly, he turned his attention to shoving his arm through one of the sleeves of his yukata. It was just a dream, he told himself. He had no control over dreams.

Dreams were just the imaginary product of a mind that lost control. Sasuke hated the moments between when he closed his eyes and opened them. And if he could've gone on without ever needing any rest, he would've. Sleep pulled down his defenses, made him too unguarded, and it was during that time that his mind liked to fuck with him. Like taking the experience of having his naked body shoved violently up against a wall, the heat of another radiating against it, and sexualizing that violence, making it a pleasurable experience when it was anything but -- save for that leg pressed be-- Sasuke tightened his fist around his yukata top, knuckles whitening, brows furrowing.

Apparently his mind liked to fuck with him when he was awake, too.

"We have a date with the empress. You remember the empress, don't you?" Kakashi asked as he busied himself with checking his gear and restocking the pack he normally wore at waistline instead of reading _Icha Icha_ like he normally would've. After losing sleep and struggling to keep his own arousal at bay, the jounin didn't think reading porn at the crack of dawn was a good way to start off his day, unless he wanted to walk around uncomfortable for the rest of the day.

Sasuke, however, was too busy trying to bleach his mind clean of the dream (though really, it was more of a nightmare, wasn't it) to notice Kakashi's discomfort. He shot him a flat look as he continued to dress silently, vaguely remembering the bitchy actress-cum-empress whose autographed glossy headshot had ended up the object of a certain loudmouth moron's annoying antics. Nevermind the fact that the retard already had an autographed photo from her.

Naruto had bugged him for two weeks straight until Sasuke finally couldn't take any more of his whining and relinquished the object to the idiot after he decided to start staking out the Uchiha complex with a pair of binoculars and a week's worth of instant ramen.

But that didn't come close to the current frustration he was dealing with.

Especially when Kakashi had taken his silence for an inability to remember and continued with, "Maa, I guess it was a while ago, so you've probably forgotten..." Oh right, because it was so long ago and he had Alzheimers. Sasuke let a scoff of derision that Kakashi's lips turned upwards at as he zipped the pack up. "Anyway, she serves very nice tea, and if we get there on time, we might be lucky enough to have some with her."

Sasuke wondered briefly what tea would taste like drunken through a mask, and tightened the thick rope around his waist, movements sharp and filled with irritation as Kakashi continued to talk about tea and how the tea was apparently from some special place in Snow Country and was known for its exquisite taste and aroma. When the jounin started to talk about what kind of delicacies were served with the tea, Sasuke began to consider how he would find a way to get away from this man, and more importantly -- how to unseal his chakra.

If Kakashi had learned a way to seal chakra, then Sasuke would figure out a way to unseal it.

~

After a quick meal of ration bars washed down with water, Kakashi sealed his travel pack into a scroll that fit neatly in his waist pack for easier travel and released the barrier seal that blocked the entrance of the cave. The harsh bite of perpetual winter immediately rushed over them in a gust of icy wind that easily snuck between the folds of their clothing.

"Travel in front of me -- I'll tell you where to go." Kakashi informed his former student, who leveled him with a glare and a slight flare of killing intent. Sasuke must have picked the killing intent up from Orochimaru. He certainly didn't have very good control over it, always so quick to anger (though, that might have something to do with the fact that Kakashi had sealed his chakra...) and not even caring to suppress it.

But when Sasuke was dealing with his chakra held hostage _and_ being treated like a prisoner, he didn't really see a reason as to why he should be diplomatic. Diplomacy wasn't exactly something he excelled at, anyway. It was easier to rearrange an enemy's face than to force himself into the plasticity of smiles that required too much effort for too little reward.

For Kakashi to have him travel in front would ensure that he wouldn't be able to run away, and his movements could be monitored at all times. It was like being locked in a proverbial cage within the walls of Kakashi's range of vision -- a revelation that only heated his conviction and cemented his resolve. He would find a way to escape, _and_ make Kakashi regret that arrogance of his; that self-righteous, self-important way he went about with everything he ever did.

Sasuke suddenly remembered the way bark had scratched at his back and how tight the wire had been when Kakashi tied him up in that tree all those years ago, and preached to him about friendship and precious companions. He'd stuffed his ears full of unrealistic notions of peace and happiness and all that didn't exist in a world as harsh and cruel as the one he lived in. Maybe in Kakashi's world, in Naruto's world, those idyllic dreams could manifest, but only within the lives of those who lived with their eyes always closed, never seeing the reality of the world. How deep it cut. Right to the bone.

Sasuke's eyes were pried open by unforgiving hands, and when he tried to close them against the harshness of the elements, he only ever seemed to grow weaker no matter how hard he reached or how desperately he tried to bridge the gap between righteousness and all that had been lost. It was only when he opened his eyes once more and saw the world as it really was, did he truly understand: he was never meant to close his eyes again after having them forced open. He was never meant to be blind.

So when they moved out across a frozen tundra, snow stretching before them as far as the eye could see, Sasuke looked for an opening, bided his time. He would go along with Kakashi's plans, and just when the jounin least expected, he would make his escape.

The wind whipped against skin like sand, grating the surface of bare flesh unaccustomed to the harshness of the elements.

"Hold it. I sense... four, no, five people approaching," Kakashi called from behind him. "Head for the forest, we need tree cover." They sprinted across the frozen turf towards the evergreen forest just ahead. Sasuke moved mechanically, his lips curled into a slight smirk. If this was an ambush, then this would be the perfect opportunity to escape. Especially when Kakashi moved so that he was alongside him as they darted into the cover of forest, trees a blur of green and white as they quickly traveled -- but not fast enough, it seemed. The killing intent that Kakashi had sensed was now so strong, so close, Sasuke could sense it as well, even with his chakra sealed -- whoever were chasing them were _fast_.

But before they could move any deeper into the forest, the ground began to rumble, snow falling off trees with the tremors. Kakashi extended his arm for them to halt, and turned to Sasuke as though he were about to say something. But before he could even open his mouth, the shuddering earth split with a deafening crack, and a gigantic icicle stabbed upwards right at them, forcing them to leap apart from each other to evade it.

They were under attack.

~

The forest shook with battle as Sasuke fled, sucking in cold air so fast his lungs burned.

The ninja that had ambushed them wore the same chakra armor from the military compound he'd broken into just a few days ago. For someone who had no chakra or weapons and had to rely solely on taijutsu against ice that rose up and tried to imprison him; frozen tigers that burst out of the ground and tried to swallow him; icicles that tried to stab him -- it'd taken all of his effort to take down the opponent he was fighting, leaving Kakashi behind to handle the rest.

He wondered if the jounin noticed him missing yet, or if he was still so caught up with the fight that he still believed Sasuke was handling his own opponent.

Maybe Kakashi would end up being taken down in the fight, but Sasuke highly doubted that would happen.

Racing across snow and weaving through trees, he caught sight of a river and started to head straight for it, remembering a moment too late that he had no chakra to allow for easy travel over water. But if he followed the river far enough, it would eventually bring him to the sea -- and Sasuke would then be able to locate his hideout. He needed to rework his strategy, and factor in the Kakashi-shaped obstacle that had created a severe hindrance, as well as the power that had been sealed within him.

The river was a silver gash in a too-white landscape, and when it caught the sun overhead, its waters would scintillate, amplifying the light until it blinded. Sasuke was careful not to look at it too much, keeping to the shadows as he remained under the cover of forest, traveling parallel with the river, snow crunching underfoot.

In an arctic world composed of ice and snow, of winter trees that never flowered, the earth froze harder than rock, locking in its lack of life and barren emptiness in perpetual slumber. Maybe if winter lasted longer in Konoha, if the ground froze there too, the people there wouldn't live their lives with eyes closed, unseeing. Maybe they'd be able to understand the world as he did -- how cold it truly was. How large emptiness was.

How it was absence that defined the difference.

~

His breaths came staggered, the air so cold it was painful to suck them in so quickly the way he was -- in breathless gasps.

The feeling of sweat pricking his temples as it dried and the blood hot at his back where an icicle had cut deep into a shoulderblade made for a strange contrast as Kakashi scanned the area for Sasuke, knowing he wouldn't be able to sense his chakra. The enemy was strong -- so strong that they'd even given him a hard time, with nonstop combination attacks of ice. But when he shot through chakra armor with Raikiri and took the leader's heart, the remaining two fled, sensing that he was an enemy too strong for them to handle on their own -- which meant he and Sasuke had to move, fast, before they returned with reinforcements.

He worried about Sasuke, with only taijutsu to defend himself, having lost sight of him soon after the ambush began. Was he okay?

Smearing a bit of his blood against his thumb, Kakashi wasted no time summoning Pakkun. He'd find out, one way or another.

~

They had the brat cornered in a tree.

Ryoumaru's team tracked the target after he fled the battle, leaving behind the other ninja to deal with Touya's team. They'd looked at each other in surprise when the boy suddenly abandoned his teammate and shot out through the forest, moving so fast that, initially, it had almost been impossible to keep up with him. Their target was an assassin who had taken down the military stronghold they had, which still smoldered with strange black flames. They knew nothing about him -- other than what he looked like, and had orders to capture him alive, if possible -- or take his head.

Seeing as there was only one of him and four of them -- the strongest ice ninja in the Opposition -- Ryoumaru saw him more as a rat in a cage than a serious force to be reckoned with.

But the boy didn't seem to have even a shred of fear or concern as he looked about him slowly, taking in the sight of the team surrounding him, before he quirked a brow and gave an unimpressed, "Huh."

And the next moment, he was gone -- a blur moving almost too fast for the eye to see along the forest floor.

"AFTER HIM!"

~

It was too much.

The moment Sasuke flipped over a roaring tiger, an icicle shot up to stab at him, barely missing by a hair's fraction.

It was too fucking much.

When they'd ascertained that he could only fight at close range, they began hitting him with one mid-to-long distance ninjutsu after another. The speed and force of each attack were so close together, it took all of his energy to dodge, giving him little time to retaliate.

It had seemed like a good idea at first -- run and try to take them on one by one, to level out the playing field. But they had the elements in their favor and used ice to assist in the speed of their chase, created obstacles for him to overcome, walls of snow that threatened to crush.

Before long, he was surrounded again -- this time, in a circle of trees with the sky watching impassively as earth shook and broke apart.

Using the torque of sheer speed to drive him vertically up a side of a wall of ice before leaping to another, his body strained against the force as Sasuke drove his elbow into the only kunoichi's spine with a sickening crack. Relying on his momentum, he whirled and landed a brutal Konoha Daisenpuu, feeling the satisfactory crunch of ribs cracking under his foot as the girl hurtled back down to earth.

He didn't have any time to see if his final blow had the impact he desired -- icicles shot at him from every direction, and he let his body fall in a vertical drop before bounding off the ground in a flip, picking up speed once more the moment he was back on his feet. How Lee managed to do this in every fight, Sasuke wasn't sure -- it was hard enough with one opponent; let alone four.

At this rate, his body wouldn't be able to hold up.

The sudden attack from overhead drew his gaze up -- and there was a flash of blinding white when the sun shot through the ice and took out his sight the moment he dodged.

He couldn't see.

He couldn't fucking see.

He blinked his eyes furiously, focusing his energy into reaching out his senses and dodged -- barely -- when he felt the rush of air and a whistle of sound that signified an icicle hurtling in his direction. A tremor shot up his leg, and without a moment's pause he leapt, just as the ground shattered apart with another attack.

His heart thundered. Clenched.

Here in a world plunged in darkness, where vision had been ripped from the root and there was only the roar of sound and the rush of sensation that dove in to compensate for what he suddenly lacked, Sasuke had never felt more powerless or smaller than at any other moment in his life -- save for the one that had defined it.

Then there was a crack, crunch, tremble and a rush of air and whistle all at once, and all he could do was leap in a direction he thought was right --

Something heavy and warm barreled into him from the side in a blow so hard the wind was crushed out of his lungs. He tried to lift his hands up to fight, but his arms were pinned down against his sides by a stronger pair, the scent of moist earth and warm masculinity overwhelming as it wrapped itself around him and filled him with steady reassurance as they hurtled through the air--

Pain shot through his body as snow and ice seared up his back and stabbed into his skin like little pieces of frozen, shattered glass, Kakashi's weight crushing him. Kakashi's body shuddered on top of his, his breath coming in broken pants, labored and painful, hot and humid right against his throat. And then Sasuke noticed something wet trickling onto his chest, where his yukata had slipped open.

Something warm.

And unexpected emotion, so violent in ascent, rose, clawed its way up from the pit of his stomach and shot straight through his chest. It inundated him in such an overwhelming wave of pure feeling that he couldn’t grasp onto long enough to make any sense of. With his world dark and coming apart at the seams, control unraveling, it was -- like--

\-- _genjutsu_ , when he was brought down to his knees with his hand in Kakashi's chest, feeling the sharp crunch of bone and the hot rush of blood, so sticky and warm and wet--

\--just like the moisture he felt on his chest.

His hand trembled as it found Kakashi's shoulder, moving cautiously down his side, towards the site of the spill.

And when his fingertips encountered something hard and chillingly cold, Kakashi's breath hitched...then stopped.

* * *

  



	6. Recapitulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi'd wondered when and if he'd ever encounter his prodigal former student again, but never expected it to be quite like this.

Winter.

It had this way of sneaking up on you. Letting you think that you were safe, wrapped up in the false security of extra layers. The elements couldn't get at you when you were being protected. It was always just a little bit of ice that melted, or a shoeful of snow that left the toes cold, maybe a little numb. And the wind -- it made the skin tingle like you were being kissed. Sometimes it was pleasant, other times a little too cold. But nothing a hot cup of tea and a warm pair of arms couldn't fix.

Sasuke never realized how powerful winter could be until the wind blew so hard, cut so deep, he forgot to inhale when Kakashi stopped breathing. And in the span of a second that stretched and extended, he pictured them tumbled, broken down by snow. He could feel the blood, without seeing it, slowly spilling over his skin. Realizing then, how hot it was -- scalding in accusation. He was the only one who could take the blame, helpless and pathetic with all his power stripped away. But none of this made sense, and he could barely even begin to process how or why, the feeling growing so large it choked up inside and wrapped its fingers around his heart, squeezing tight.

And there it was, that nameless emotion. Punching through the walls of his foundations and ripping out the floor right under him. It gave him no mercy even as he hit the ground so hard it shook, trembled, and reduced to rubble the solid rocks of shattered conviction. The iron spine of his will not only dented, but fragmented, each vertebrae of resolve crumbling to dust as time held still when the world started shaking.

Then hot rain stung at his eyes and he could taste, at the back of his throat, a bitter salt.

The moment lingered, held, then burst with a hot rush of breath against his neck and a familiar grunt of pain, ice under his fingertips moving wet under his touch, a flash of sudden sensation, before all he felt was air.

Then Kakashi's weight lifted off him, and the sudden emptying of the tidal wave in his chest, containing too much emotion he didn't even know he had, left him breathless and almost dizzy with relief.

The next second came much faster than the one that preceded it, this time, filled with the crushing weight of enormous killing intent. It should've shaken him, but all he felt was a strange sense of security when he recognized the source of that violent energy.

He braced himself for it, and reached out, catching Kakashi's snow-covered ankle with a hand, just as blurry spots of light and color began to interrupt the night that had descended on his line of sight.

" _Mangekyou Sharingan._ "

~

Snow in Konoha never lasted.

It was always just an ephemeral brush of winter, scared away by the warmth and vitality of the life that refused to crumble under it. Some said it was the will of the village, forged from fire, that made it impossible for winter to disrupt the balance of life that constantly sprung forth. Others believed it was that Konoha was at the center of perpetual blooming, a constant cycle that pendulated between Spring and Summer.

Sometimes it felt like a dream, however fleeting. And when everyone woke the next morning, they saw the vivid strength of the green that surrounded them, instead of life stripped down to all-encompassing white.

It was easy to lose focus when surrounded by too much white. All that emptiness consumed the color of dreams and stripped bare the trees of hope.

But despite a face full of blood-tinged snow and barely any chakra left in his body, hurting so much he could hardly move, Kakashi refused to give in to the bone-chilling cold, even as the snow under his body started to turn red. He grunted slightly and managed to turn his head, squinting up at the sun before it fell in shadow, cast by Sasuke standing over him, looking down. He was blinking furiously, with so much confusion and vulnerable emotion written all over his face that Kakashi might've joked how he was good and fine and there was nothing to cry about. But he had no energy to do much more than softly groan when Sasuke's arm slipped around him and pulled him up.

"You're an idiot..." Sasuke huffed out by his ear, his voice sounding a little hoarse as Kakashi managed to loop an arm around the boy's shoulders for support, barely standing on his own feet, discovering just how hard it was to breathe.

"Talking to yourself again?" The words weren't spoken, but quietly wheezed out as Kakashi coughed, tasting blood.

"Shut up." Sasuke mumbled, only to receive a slightly pained smile in response as Kakashi struggled with the medical pack at his side, groping at the flap to try and get at one of the blood replenishing pills inside that would force his wounds to temporarily clot while his body generated more blood. Sasuke gave him a reproachful look, then helped him with the pack, seeming to know exactly what it was that Kakashi was looking for as he pulled out one of the pills and pressed it against the jounin's lips.

His fingers were surprisingly warm.  


~

They traveled as fast and as far as Kakashi's battered body would allow before finding refuge in another cave. With the last of his chakra, the jounin cast a barrier seal, and Sasuke watched with wide eyes as Kakashi crumpled to the floor, knees striking cold rock before he pitched forward onto his palms. His body shook with wracking coughs. And the pain was so intense, so grating, that he didn't notice when blood splattered over the floor, dripping through his mask. Couldn't notice, because he was trying too hard to struggle for breath as his lungs threatened collapse.

But then he was sucking air through material soaked with thick blood and sputum, each strained breath growing increasingly difficult -- forcing him to finally lift up a hand and tug his mask down, inhaling deep breaths of unobstructed air gratefully between each blood-soaked cough.

Sasuke stared at the bared face before him, his mind not quite computing what he saw with what was going on.

He was really starting to hate this, the inability to draw in breath when he needed it the most. Except this time it wasn't because Kakashi was bent over him, bleeding and injured, but because Kakashi was on his hands and knees coughing up blood that slid down the corners of his _lips_ \--

His eyes drank in the sight of Kakashi's naked profile, taking in the sharp cut of a strong jawline, slightly rough with a few days worth of stubble, moving up the slope of a straight chin. He noticed how, when Kakashi tried to catch his breath, his lips would part just so and a tiny white glint of his teeth would show. And then he realized how straight Kakashi's nose was and how high the cut of cheekbones were.

Like a face out of a magazine.

A face that didn't belong here in a space that smelled like sweat and blood and dirt.

He wondered why on earth Kakashi kept a face like that covered up. His features were so striking. Beautiful, even. A face that could render anyone speechless and have them faltering in their steps -- a deadly advantage any ninja could use. Somehow it made him seem so human. And then Sasuke realized maybe it was that human condition of vulnerability he was trying to cover up.

Without the mask, when Kakashi winced in pain, it wasn't just his eyes that expressed the hurt, but his entire face. And when he drew in a slight, pained breath as he eased himself into a sitting position, his eyebrows knit together and his teeth sunk down on his lower lip to give him the distraction he needed from the pain he must've been experiencing throughout the rest of his body.

Sasuke just stared. And then he realized he was staring, and immediately scowled, forcing his eyes off that unfamiliar face. He almost felt like he was intruding on Kakashi's privacy, seeing him like this, so open and naked and unbelievably human.

There was something strange about that idea of Kakashi being human. Even though he clearly wasn't anything other than human, that mask somehow depersonalized him, made him less human -- untouchable. But here he was with his face bare, his expression so easily readable. It felt almost intimate. So Sasuke resolutely kept his eyes averted on the floor before he heard a sharp, painful inhale of air come from Kakashi and slowly let his eyes drift back over.

The jounin had eased out of his vest and was struggling to take off his shirt, but could only seem to manage to get it half-up his chest.

The deep gash at his side had ripped open again in the process.

Sasuke felt a frown crease itself on his forehead as he moved from the spot he had been standing and crouched down by Kakashi's side. He was bleeding badly, and though he'd taken a blood replenishing pill, the amount of blood he was losing was considerable. Before he realized what he was doing, Sasuke had pushed Kakashi's hands aside and was easing the shirt up gently.

Kakashi's eyes settled on the way Sasuke's lips drew into a line, as it typically did when he was concentrating. Then, he lifted his arms, the wound in his shoulderblade screaming at him in retribution, and sucked a choked breath through his teeth when pain flooded through him with the removal of the shirt, which took the mask with it.

He closed his eyes, thinking that maybe if he focused on something other than the pain, it wouldn't be quite as bad. Like how Sasuke's fingers moved as he carefully inspected the wound on his side, then the one on his back.

He didn't realize how gentle Sasuke could be until he touched him like that.

But Sasuke simply didn't know _how_ to touch Kakashi, and was glad that the jounin's eyes were closed as he inspected him, taking in the familiar sight of him, the scars that mapped his skin. Somehow, this body he was once so used to seeing felt so different without its mask. He tried his best not to think too much about it, to just focus on the task in front of him, on all that blood, and not how Kakashi's face looked when he winced, or how Kakashi's chest heaved as he drew in labored breaths.

Instead, he set his attentions on going through Kakashi's medical pack and taking out supplies, then began the grisly task of disinfecting the wound on Kakashi's side. He felt Kakashi's skin jump slightly when he applied the antiseptic. And when he noticed how the jounin's knuckles clenched white as he bore the burning pain, something within him rose at that sight, found its way into his throat and made it hard to breathe.

So he tried to ignore him and focused on the needle and thread instead.

He told himself it was easier that way.

~

  


~  


Pain.

It seemed to be one of the only constants in his life. Lightning under the skin and thunder in his chest. It gave him focus, made him feel alive. Made him remember how good alive felt, even if his body ached and if all his nerves were shot from beginning to end.

It was the absence of pain that made life so simple. It was easy to take a healthy body for granted, when it was always working properly and functioning without any problems. When it wasn't bleeding and broken and struggling for air.

Easier, to take happiness for granted. But that wasn't something Kakashi ever made the mistake of doing.

Sasuke's touch was hesitant, unsure, but he soon fell into a comfortable rhythm. He handled him like he was fragile, something that would break if he pressed too hard or touched too rough. It was strange, having Sasuke treat him in this way. But he could imagine what he looked like -- covered in blood and bruises, trembling with pain and cold. And while the boy certainly had seen his share of injuries in his lifetime, he probably didn't have to treat too many for someone else. So when the needle slightly trembled and Sasuke had to pinch the base of his wrist to steady his hand, Kakashi didn't think much of it.

But the flush that tinged his former student's cheeks was unmistakable.

It made Kakashi smirk a little, seeing it. Knowing why it was there.

He sighed, tonguing the crack at the corner of his mouth as Sasuke's fingers smoothed tape in place over the gauze on his back, then lingered. He seemed reluctant to pull away, but eventually slipped his hands off.

Kakashi crunched another blood replenishing pill up, then turned his head to face his former student who tried to make himself look busy by packing up supplies. He could tell it unnerved Sasuke to see his face like this. To look at the wounds he'd dressed and realize that they were there because of him. And it was with this in mind that Kakashi intentionally left himself uncovered. He liked forcing Sasuke outside of his comfort zone, liked pushing him past his limits, because it was only when Sasuke was in a space where he felt he had no control, that the fire within him burned holes through the walls he hid behind.

"Sasuke," Kakashi began, his voice filled with mild antipathy. "Jumping straight into an enemy's attack is not very smart."

The boy paused what he was doing to indicate that he was listening and frowned slightly, but then resumed the meticulous task of packing the supplies up.

"Trying to run away on your own...is just plain stupid." A pair of dark eyes blazed up at him then, and once Kakashi knew he had Sasuke's full, undivided attention, he leveled him with a steady look. "Let me make something very clear. Your chakra can only be unsealed by mine. And the _only_ way you can unseal it, is if I unseal you."

Sasuke's reaction was typical. Kakashi felt the flare of anger directed at him and watched as the boy lowered his brow and narrowed his eyes into a glare. But when Kakashi allowed his own gaze to grow hard and stripping, his features rife with disapproval, Sasuke's gaze wavered, then slid to the side obstinately. A rather interesting reaction, Kakashi thought. He never expected Sasuke to react so strongly to seeing his face, and realizing how much he affected the boy made him feel simultaneously intrigued and smug.

So he played up on it a little more, bringing a hand up to press a thumb to the bruised corner of his lips, the action catching Sasuke's eye and drawing it to the bottom half of his face before flickering away once more.

Kakashi didn't even bother to hide the way one corner of his mouth curled up at that.

"In case you didn't realize, there is a civil war going on right now in this country and you naively thought you could just go in on your own and infiltrate a military base whose blueprint you clearly did not know. You succeeded not only in tripping all the alarms, but you also caused the ultimate destruction of that base." He watched as Sasuke's brow furrowed at his words; perhaps he was wondering how Kakashi knew.

Sasuke kept his eyes trained to the side, where it was safe to look. Where he didn't have to rest his eyes on Kakashi's bare face and see how the words formed on his lips or how expression played out on a canvas that was normally covered with a blank mask.

Kakashi knew how jarring it could be, the first time he exposed his face. He remembered how past bed partners had always admonished him for covering up a face they called beautiful. But to him, it was just a face. It didn't even serve a purpose in battle -- or in his life, really. It was easier to cover it up; to keep people guessing. Easier, too, to live a life in perpetual concealment. A story wrapped up so tight with cellophane, only the covers could be read, when picked up by a casual reader.

They would never understand what was written on those pages anyway.

Kakashi wiped some blood off his lips before continuing. "I was there that night too -- they've probably given you credit for my work," he paused, and Sasuke's eyes slowly moved back over to his face. They moved cautiously, as though he'd lose what modicum of control he wanted to believe he still had if he looked at Kakashi too carelessly. "And now the entire Opposition probably wants your head." He finished so offhandedly that if Sasuke wasn't paying attention, he would've completely overlooked the sheer gravity of the situation.

The jounin's expression conveyed a different message. It was one drawn in serious concern. And when he met Sasuke's frown, his expression softened in such a way that Sasuke flinched slightly and looked away. It was strange, how a thing like softness could frighten someone's eyes away, and absolutely _fascinating_ watching a blush slowly rise on a face that usually was so pale.

If things were different, Kakashi might've been tempted to make a game out of it and give himself imaginary points and proverbial gold stars every time he flustered the boy, but with his body badly wounded, and with the enemy right outside, he didn't have the luxury of playing games.

"So, you have two options. Either you stick with me, or you can go off on your own and get us both killed."

At his last words, Sasuke's gaze snapped back to Kakashi's face, brows slightly creased and eyes more narrowed. He kept his eyes on Kakashi's, as though he was trying to gauge the meaning behind his words. Then, slowly, the corners of his mouth tightened again, noticeably. "I never asked for your help," he muttered, voice quiet and blank.

And normally, Kakashi's eye would gently arc in an indication of a smile. But instead, his entire face transformed with it as a smile blossomed across his lips, his features growing warm and soft in a way that made Sasuke want to look away.

"Sasuke-kun," he began, in a tone that sounded chiding. "You must have forgotten. I won't allow my teammates to die."

* * *

  
**Credit:** Artwork by [](http://imlikat.livejournal.com/profile)[**imlikat**](http://imlikat.livejournal.com/)  


* * *


	7. The Third Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi'd wondered when and if he'd ever encounter his prodigal former student again, but never expected it to be quite like this.

Memory.

It had a funny way of creeping up just when he least expected it. Swift and destructive like a river in the midst of a storm, waters swirling fast with a sense of purpose. It seemed to know just which deltas to flood, which banks to overflow. And sometimes the surge was too much to handle, as it was now, with eidetic slivers of the past slipping under the crack of a door Sasuke thought he'd firmly locked in the back of his mind.

He remembered the overwhelming intensity of killing intent that oozed around him thicker than the mist he was caught in; how it grabbed him by the lungs and squeezed so tight, it took all his energy to suck in air; how Kakashi sensed without seeing, the fear that had him trembling and shaking, ready to take his own life to escape that feeling of helplessness. The jounin's voice had been so reaffirming then, as he told him not to worry; that he'd protect them with his life; that he wouldn't let anyone on his team die.

And Sasuke remembered how much he believed him.

But that was then. Things were different then -- easier, simpler. Sasuke wasn't sure how things ended up being so complicated and convoluted or why he was fated to be caught up in a sea he, at times, didn't know how to navigate.

Like now, with Kakashi, smiling at him so gently he wasn't sure he could handle looking at him. His face was so unguarded and filled with so much warmth and softness and everything that told Sasuke he could trust him again, when it was the last thing he wanted to do.

He hadn't trusted anyone in years, hadn't needed to. He told himself he wasn't going to start doing it now either.

The conflict that stitched itself across his face as he struggled with himself became rather apparent to Kakashi, who fell silent with the slightest of smiles tinging his lips. The jounin could see the uncertainty and the apprehension that colored the boy's countenance as he vacillated between the desire to trust and the fear of doing just that. But Kakashi had saved his life more than once, when he had been under no obligation to do so; and had that fight between them been anything other than genjutsu--

A visible shudder rose up Sasuke's back and he bit down on his lower lip, tearing his eyes away from Kakashi's face, prompting the jounin to move on, now that the moment had passed and he had Sasuke just where he wanted him.

Vulnerable.

"I think it's time you tell me what you were doing, breaking into that base."

Sasuke didn't look up at him, but he slightly flinched, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown as he worried his lower lip with a bit of his teeth. It was evident that the boy didn't want to explain his purpose, so Kakashi waited in silence, and let the intensity of his gaze wash over his former student.

"...they have something I want," Sasuke finally admitted after a moment of scrutiny, his voice quiet.

"Something worth risking your life for?"

"Yes."

With the way Sasuke's lips set, tightly pressed together in a stubborn line, Kakashi could tell that was all he was going to get out of the boy for now.

So he nodded and sat back, then reached into his bag for his canteen to bring to his lips for a sip, noticing how his fingers trembled. He could feel his weakness, how urgent the necessity was in getting himself warm. And while Sasuke attempted to watch him surreptitiously (and failing quite miserably), Kakashi dragged out the scroll he'd sealed his travel pack within and unrolled it on the cavern floor with hands that quaked so violently, he wondered if he'd be able to unseal something as simple as a bag. But with a flash of chakra, the oversized bag appeared in a cloud of smoke, along with his bedroll strapped to it.

A bedroll that Kakashi knew would smell like the boy sitting a few feet away from him.

But that hardly mattered at the moment, with consciousness threatening to drift away in the aftermath of a storm that had bashed in his walls and laid bare faultlines that trembled with the arctic chill of the air. It made his movements clumsy, as he struggled to unroll a bedroll that just didn't want any unrolling. But soon, another pair of fingers joined his on the soft roll, and then Sasuke tugged it out of his grasp.

"I'll do it," he muttered.

Shivering with cold and pain and too much blood loss, Kakashi struggled to slide his body between the thick, fleecy covers of the bedroll. He shifted onto his back, then to his unwounded side, arms and legs moving slowly as he attempted to find the most comfortable position of repose, before realizing that in his condition, no such thing existed. And then Sasuke's scent surrounded him, overwhelming in its musky sweetness as he drew the top cover up to his chin. Had he been any less injured or less exhausted, Kakashi knew he wouldn't have been able to withstand the intensity of that ribald aroma; how it subtly found its way into him with each breath drawn, making him painfully aware of just how aroused the boy must have been the night before.

Well, fuck.

Wasn't that just wonderful.

Kakashi sighed and closed his eyes.

He really did have the worst luck.

~

It was the cold that woke him. Even wrapped in layers of warmth, it managed to penetrate through the fabric and sink its chilly fingers in, waking the jounin, shivering, to a cave that had grown dark. Night had fallen on Snow Country, and the only source of light that illuminated the cave came from a white glow stick Sasuke must have found in his travel pack.

The boy sat nearby him with his arms folded over a knee drawn to his chest, his face hidden from view. When he sensed Kakashi shifting, he looked over to him. He'd spent the past few hours sorting through the mess of tangled thoughts and emotions that had gathered into a hapless knot within him. But the more Sasuke attempted to undo the knot, the more it seemed to tighten and grow in complexity. It left him angry and frustrated and confused all at once, with nothing but Kakashi's sleeping face to reassure him and give him some sense of peace.

He tried not to dwell too much on why.

"We should light a fire," he said quietly to disengage himself from thought, when he noticed Kakashi shivering. The jounin made a soft hum of agreement in response.

Fire crackled soon after; it was meager, rising only a few feet in height and diameter, but would serve their purpose well. Sasuke looked across the flicker of orange and yellow at the older man, who'd expended the last of his chakra by unsealing and resealing the barrier for the cave, then lighting the fire with a katon jutsu before crawling back into the bedroll.

He wondered why Kakashi did so much for him when he didn't have to. It didn't make sense, how the man could look him in the eye, smile, and call him a teammate, someone he considered a friend. Sasuke had broken apart and left behind everything Kakashi had ever tried to teach him, crushed between stubborn hands. Those ideals of friendship and bonds, camaraderie and loyalty, had no place in a world as dark and empty and lonely as the one he had come to know.

But then Kakashi came out of nowhere with his strong arms and a smile so gentle that even thinking about it made Sasuke feel warm.

It was probably the fire, he thought with a frown, and shifted back and away, so he wouldn't have to be subjected to Kakashi's sleeping face. His hand came in contact with something soft; on closer inspection he discovered it was Kakashi's vest. He stared at it for a moment -- he didn't have anything to sleep on. Decided, he stretched out on the ground, balled the vest up, and tucked it under his head.

His eyes flickered back up to Kakashi’s face, watching how the fire cast gentle shadows across it, washing warmth over pale features, softening that faint crease between his brows and easing the harshness of that scar.

The sound of even breathing and the occasional crackling of flames created an irregular rhythm -- calming, soothing, steady, as his vision blurred, a pool of silver brushed in gold, before it dimmed to darkness.

~

Crashing lips and humid breath; the sharp bite of teeth and the strong taste of sweat; the headier undercurrents of insatiable need that formed itself in roaming hands hungry to possess.

Sasuke found himself lost in it, drunk on it, delirious with pleasure and need and too much sensation welling up within him as large, calloused hands gripped him by the hips, rough enough to bruise, then flowed around to his ass. He just couldn't seem to get enough of the heat of that mouth, insistent against his own, hands impatient and unsteady as they mapped strong muscles moving under his touch.

He tried to form a name but found the syllables lost in a moan as his fingers wrapped around the thick, hard circumference of what they had been blindly searching for by touch alone. The warm masculine musk that surrounded him was dizzying. And if it weren't for those strong arms wrapped around his waist, fingers gripping his asscheeks, spreading him and lifting him, Sasuke might've lost his equilibrium, intoxicated as he was with desire so intense, it felt almost maddening. The hard, rocky surface under his shoulderblades scratched at his back, then a slick stab of fingers were curling, curling, curling right into him, and Sasuke almost thought he'd come undone.

"Do it, fucking do it," he demanded, and received an infuriatingly knowing chuckle in response.

"You're always so impatient, Sasuke-kun." Hot breath steamed across his ear.

"Don't call me Sasuke-ku-- _ha..aahh.._ "

Sasuke thought he'd come right there and then when the slick heat of Kakashi's thick cock plunged into him so deep, so hard, he thought he'd be split apart by the intensity of it. It was only here, with pleasure searing through him and his world reduced to sensory perceptions, that he felt a little less broken and a little more whole.

And then Kakashi had him by the hips and was driving in harder and faster, and all Sasuke could do was fist a hand in silver hair and brace an arm across broad shoulders as he arched and cried out and demanded for more, more, more--

His eyes snapped open.

_...fuck._

* * *

  



	8. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi'd wondered when and if he'd ever encounter his prodigal former student again, but never expected it to be quite like this.

Something like that could drive you insane, if you weren't careful.

Hunger.

It starts with quiet twinges tugging slow, at the back of the mind and the pit of the stomach, that you tell yourself you can ignore. You think that you can manage without it, and for a while that tickle, those twinges, settle and dissipate; the track of life continues to spin uninterrupted. It's just a little hunger, a little need, a little something that sits and waits as you go about with your life unaffected. Taking the time to satiate the need and staunch the pang doesn't seem reasonable when the feeling is almost negligible. And while you are conscious of its existence taking form within you, it is small and insignificant enough that it doesn't require your attention or any form of sustenance with which to silence it.

It is like anything else in life -- an unnecessary annoyance.

But hunger is a thunderstorm that starts with a drizzle, a barely-there mist that lingers humid in the air. Then you breathe in that scent, so thick at the back of your throat, heavy with all the things you told yourself to ignore, and it hits you all at once -- torrential.

And you're drenched in it, this ravenous need that feels almost inhuman -- primal; animalistic, even.

It's easy to let a feeling like that consume you.

Sasuke had never known how overwhelmingly frustrating hunger could be until he woke up starving. He cut a hard glare across the fire at its source and had to bite back a groan when the hunger gave such a sharp, throbbing twinge it felt almost painful. He was nearly panting, his body trembling with it as he slid his hand down to confront it, making a few adjustments in his clothing that made it easier for the hunger to breathe, unconstricted.

The soundtrack of his breath quivered with each respiration. It sounded so frantic and pathetic and desperate that he clamped his palm across his nose and mouth to stifle it, eyes snapping shut as his teeth sank down on the fleshy heel of his palm, vivisecting through skin in the process.

Hunger tasted like anger, he thought.

Metallic.

~

It was a taste that Kakashi knew well, and one that remained faint in his mouth, when he finally woke from the kind of deep slumber he rarely ever experienced in the field.

It was dangerous to let your guard drop in the midst of a civil war on soil that wasn't even yours; but Kakashi's injuries had been serious enough, wore him down enough, that in his battered state of exhaustion, the jounin had succumbed to physical need. He slept deeply and dreamlessly. The kind of sleep that left him defenseless.

Had he been alone, he would've risked further injury instead, by imbibing a soldier pill and pushing forward despite the rest his body desperately needed.

But he wasn't alone.

The concern and guilt that weighed heavy on Sasuke's face and the hesitance of gentle fingers had been enough assurance.

Pain was a lightning bolt straight through his body when he turned, and Kakashi groaned, the sound low and gravely at the back of his throat. He felt Sasuke's eyes shoot over to him instantly before splitting away. But when those eyes tracked back a moment later, the jounin wondered what it was about him that made Sasuke's eyes so hesitantly avoidant when Kakashi wasn't even looking back.

Kakashi steeled himself against the next wrenching jolt he knew would come and forced himself into a sitting position with a soft grunt, one dark eye sliding over to meet a dark pair that immediately flicked away to the fire.

Spine rigid and shoulders tense, Sasuke looked confused and flushed and tired all at once. The way he balled a fist up in the fabric of his cloak didn't go unnoticed by the jounin, who simply watched him for a moment. Long enough to make that fist of fabric grow tighter, and that flush creep higher.

Kakashi felt one corner of his mouth twitch and he schooled it into submission as he briefly wondered what kind of a dream Sasuke had last night.

This time, Kakashi had a hypothesis about who and what the dream was about. And the mere thought of that had the corner of his mouth, as well as an eyebrow, twitching up again. With no mask to hide behind, Kakashi brought his hand up instead, rubbing slightly at his nose as he started to inspect the dressing of the wound on his side to give himself something else to focus on as he tested out his theory.

"Hmm," he hummed softly, not expecting a response from the boy, who was trying to make himself look busy by stoking the flames of the fire with a stick. But when Kakashi reached for his medical pack to extract a roll of tape, he felt the careful slide of dark eyes settling over him once more. So he indulged him, taking his time with taping down a corner of the dressing that had come loose, before sighing and turning his eye back on Sasuke again. Unsurprisingly, the Uchiha had found something else to engage his eyes with.

For a moment, Kakashi watched him, noticing how Sasuke twisted at the thick purple rope in his hands, as though tightening the knot would somehow make it less easy to unravel. Teeth left little indentations of tension where it pinched the softness of a lower lip. In a sudden swell, theory suddenly found itself confirmed as unquestionable fact, and Kakashi wasn't sure how to negotiate with it. Warmth pulsed through him in a strong wave of pleasant surprise before receding from his shores, leaving behind the froth of uncertainty swirling about his ankles. He could've waded a little deeper into the waters, to drag back that wave with insistent fingers, but found himself tracing backward steps instead.

Riptide could be dangerous, and he had no intention of being dragged out to sea by the undertow.

Instead, he'd change the focus. It was for his own good and for Sasuke's.

"Mm, looks like we're going to be _very_ late for our date with the empress," Kakashi casually commented as he pulled his travel bag a little closer and began rooting through its contents, pulling out two scrolls and something to write with. When he extracted from its depths, a fresh shirt and mask, Sasuke's eyes suddenly snapped back on him with a burst of surprise laced with unmasked anger that sheared straight through the cloying tension.

Somehow, Kakashi found the hostile change both familiar and strangely comforting.

"You have spare clothing," Sasuke said, his voice flat, pinched with accusation. He watched Kakashi start to pull on the shirt with a wince as wounds stretched open and attempted to split.

Kakashi met Sasuke's incriminating gaze with a slight smile. "That's right. You don't."

~

It was funny how a little bit of anger could change the tides.

Sasuke's anger and annoyance towards Kakashi's lack of consideration was just the proper cayenne pepper to override the flavor of a stew of unguarded, dangerous attraction that had no place in war. As tempting as the aroma was (the delicious sweetness of that musk was one he wanted to bury his face in and greedily inhale), with a mask pulled up over his face, the jounin firmly placed the cover on that pot and mechanically began to go through the motions of working on the scrolls.

Sasuke remained silent the entire time, but his eyes told a different story. Kakashi could feel his eyes on him whenever the boy thought he wasn't looking. It began with a hard, stony intensity, brimming with anger and spite that softened into something else entirely as time went by. He tried not to look interested when Kakashi summoned Pakkun who sniffed in Sasuke's general direction and looked at him curiously before asking, "Oh hey, ain't that the kid you always use'ta talk about?"

Kakashi's eyebrow twitched slightly and he managed to smooth it with a crinkle of his uncovered eye. Then, he unceremoniously handed the pug the scrolls to take to the empress, one of which would unseal the barrier he constructed, along with express instructions to guide back the retrieval team he had requested.

Had the other half of his mission not included orders to support Snow Country's imperial forces in their efforts to quell the coup d'etat, Kakashi very well would've been in serious trouble, given the hostile territory they were caught in, and the extent of his injuries.

He still had the worse luck, but at least not where it mattered.

In the period of time between Pakkun's departure and the retrieval team's arrival, Kakashi shared the last of his rations with Sasuke before turning his attention to _Icha Icha_. Somewhere between the illustrious hero's heated encounter with a pair of incredibly impressive, voluptuous breasts and the woman that came attached to them, Kakashi became aware of just how intensely Sasuke was studying him. His eyes moved over him in calculated slow strokes, as though if he licked Kakashi up with his eyes alone, he'd somehow understand what compelled him to do just that.

Kakashi bit the corner of his lip and turned the page slowly, feeling Sasuke's eyes moving all over him in a way that was so hungry and filled with so much confusion all at once, he could feel the conflicting intensity almost as keenly as the boy. And suddenly, he found himself reading the same line: _His desire swelled within him, heliotropic, when the impact of passionate recognition broke through the gates of self-control; it was unstoppable now._

He turned to the next page and stopped reading, though his eye kept moving in slow, lazy strokes that matched the rhythm Sasuke set.

Then he zeroed in on the final line on the page.

_"You know you want this."_

~

Or did he. Sasuke frowned and turned his eyes away when Kakashi glanced his way. The more he turned the tangled knot within him between his hands and tried to find the right string to tug loose, the tighter that knot grew and he just wasn't sure whether to pull at it more or to tuck the string away and somehow ignore the tightness of its constriction. Thinking about it made his head hurt, so he tried to focus on something else.

He wasn't sure when it started, only that it did. His eyes kept moving back to Kakashi every time the older man looked away, pulled by some strange gravitational force that had no explanation.

There were only questions with no answers, or answers that he didn't understand. Answers that seemed too simple in their complexity or too complex in their simplicity. So he stopped asking, stopped thinking, and merely looked.

It was like seeing him for the first time, even though Sasuke'd seen him so many times before. But maybe then, he had only been looking, and not really seeing. Maybe now, he was finally _seeing_ for the first time, with eyes that seemed to reveal so much more than he had ever noticed before. Like how it was possible to determine, with the mind's eye, the topography of covered up features, if you looked closely enough.

With nothing else to do as they waited for the retrieval team to arrive, Sasuke was determined to discern what lay under Kakashi's mask through careful observation. He told himself it would be good practice for uncovering future masked opponents, as he discovered the best angle for what Kakashi's nose looked like was from the side, with his chin slightly lowered. Or how the optimum angle for figuring out the rest of Kakashi's face was when he tilted his chin up slightly and let his head roll back gently.

Sasuke wasn't sure how he never noticed these details before, and knowing how the man actually looked under that mask made his visual assessment all the more compelling. But then he realized that no amount of looking could reveal the way Kakashi's face looked when he smiled. How when that smile formed dimples in cheeks and softened into something so gentle and tender, the feeling it induced was so paradoxically strong, it was impossible to keep eyes focused on a face with that much warmth.

Kakashi was hard lines and angles, power and cold steel, not tenderness; not warmth.

It was so much more comfortable looking at him like this, all covered up.

~

It was easier to digest someone else's version of truth instead of negotiating the boundaries of his own; easier to keep himself hemmed up, each stich firmly in place around the softness of expression or the sharpness of a frown.

Kakashi never liked to deal in absolutes when it was about himself. He preferred the malleability of clay over the unchanging stability of concrete; the unpredictability of lightning storms over the predictability of when the sun would rise. Though it was easy to succumb to the comforting reassurance of predictability, there was something about taking anything for granted that bothered him and set him on edge; one day the sun would set, and a perpetual night would rise.

So Kakashi never took anything for granted. Not even sunrises. Or what many liked to believe was the unchanging nature of the elements that made up a person. But if nature was so predictable, storms would never swoop in unexpected to decimate forests and flatten villages. If it was only the world that kept on turning while its inhabitants were held in stasis, life would be so much simpler: you are born, you live, you marry and have a family, then grow old. At some point you might have grandchildren, and you die at an old age, sitting in a rocking chair, watching the cycle repeat itself.

How easy life would be then. How predictable.

But it was change that was the only constant in a life filled from corner to corner with the unexpected; it was change that shifted the currents of Sasuke's seas and weather patterns in his onwards march towards his own self-assured authenticity that plucked apart the roots from where it had first hatched. And Kakashi had watched as change crumbled Sasuke's life apart in his hands; change that made it impossible to stop the force of unpredictable nature when Sasuke's truth grew into something far darker and more convoluted in all of its solipsistic righteousness.

And here they were again caught up in the cycle, though this time, the change was different. Something made of hunger and need and the poor logic of too much attraction.

Kakashi was all too relieved when the barrier was released and the arrival of the imperial retrieval team broke through their own private microcosm that had grown too intimate in a period far too short. He was even more relieved when the tension that had grown unbearably palpable shimmered apart and burst with the intrusion of outside attention.

The way Pakkun looked between Sasuke and Kakashi was unsettling as the medic worked on healing the jounin's wounds.

The pug sniffed at the air with a sense of shocked uncertainty, before sniffing again and looking at them strangely.

Kakashi refused to meet his summon's knowing gaze. Pakkun opened his mouth as though he meant to say something, then closed it again. When he announced, "Ah....I think it's time to go home..." and poofed out of existence instead, Kakashi let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding. He'd almost expected the pug to comment on the change of their mutual scents. Charged with something purely sexual.

The need for tactical planning was an invited change. A map had been unrolled for Kakashi and Sasuke to look over as Kaiya, the leader of the team, tapped at a point on the map with a senbon.

"This is where we are right now," he pointed at a drawing that depicted an enclave of mountains overlooking a large tundra flanked by forests with a river cutting through the middle. "And this is where we need to be," the senbon pointed at a star on the map that marked the imperial palace. "It's about twenty klicks away. We should be able to make it there within two hours if we don't encounter hostiles."

Kakashi hummed softly to himself as he gingerly pressed a hand to his side, which still tingled from the rudimentary medical ninjutsu. The wound had been stitched together with chakra; if he wasn't careful, it'd rip apart once more. "We should recon our travel area for any hostiles, so we're not taken by surprise. If we need to engage in battle, we should enter it fully prepared."

Sasuke merely watched quietly as the planning went on. If the boy found it strange being in an environment that reminded him so much of the past, or odd that the retrieval team was referring to Kakashi as "taichou," he did his best not to acknowledge it -- schooling his features into his usual mask of stoicism. The faint glint in his eyes was the only thing that gave him away. He was paying too much attention for someone that was supposedly watching more out of boredom than genuine interest.

"That's a negative. Hatake-taichou, we don't have enough time to execute a proper recon, and the more time we spend in this area, the higher the chances are of us being ambushed. Our last intelligence reports show that a team of hostiles were last spotted here," Kaiya pointed at a spot on the map that Kakashi ascertained was roughly eighty klicks away from their current destination. "That was almost four hours ago."

The jounin's eye cut up sharply. "Then we need to move out. Now."

"Yes, Sir."

"Did you bring the extra gear I requested?"

"Yes, Sir. However, we could only procure half of what you requested, Sir."

"That's more than enough."

Sasuke's eyes widened with surprise when Kakashi took the bag of weapons from Kaiya and pressed it into the boy's hands. Then he scowled when Kakashi let his eye arch with a gentle smile and lightly said, "Try not to hit the wrong person with a kunai, Sasuke-kun."

When the medic approached him to check for wounds, he shied away from her with a frown, his lips set in a thin, stubborn line. "I'm fine."

Kakashi sighed. Sometimes dealing with Sasuke was like dealing with a small child. A very petulant small child who always needed to get his way, regardless of the circumstances. "You should let her check you, Sasuke-kun."

"I said, I'm _fine_. And stop calling me Sasuke-kun."

"But that's your name, Sasuke-kun," Kakashi sounded almost sing-song as he zipped up his vest and received a glare in response, taking comfort in the familiarity of it while he sealed his travel pack. "Or would you prefer I call you Sakkun? Hmm... or maybe Sacchan?"

Kakashi had to swallow down a laugh when Sasuke nearly growled. The retrieval team looked on, bewildered at the strange exchange that had interrupted their tactical planning. But before they had any reason to worry, Kakashi returned his attention to the task at hand.

"We move out in single-line formation. Sasuke-kun and I will take the flank." Kakashi pointedly ignored the worried looks he received from that idea.

"But Sir... the flank is the most dangerous position to be in."

"Which is precisely why I should be there."

There was a moment of hesitance as Kaiya exchanged looks with his medic before clearing his throat slightly. "...you're injured, Sir. If anything should happen-- if we're ambushed--"

"Then having me at the flank will drastically increase our chances of survival." Kakashi's eye crinkled with a reasurring smile. He stood up after a routine weapons check and clapped his hands together. "Let's move out."

With the barrier released, winter was steadily creeping in with more determination to drain away the minute warmth their fire had created. The cold was slightly numbing, but not where it mattered the most. The tension had merely escaped inside and found itself a home in a strange itch deep within Kakashi's chest that he couldn't quite scratch. He drew in a bit of a breath to ease it, and then nodded for Sasuke to go on ahead of him.

But then the shadowed enclosure of the cave gave way to all that blinding white around them, made startlingly bright by the sun overhead. Before Kakashi knew what was happening, Sasuke suddenly slammed backwards into his arms with a strangled sound.

Through the cracks between the boy's quaking fingers clamped over his eyes, Kakashi thought he saw the glint of red too wet to be Sharingan.

And then he caught the scent a moment later.

Copper.

* * *


	9. Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi'd wondered when and if he'd ever encounter his prodigal former student again, but never expected it to be quite like this.

A scent like that was hard to forget.

Sasuke had it burned into him at too young an age, and it'd followed him for the past ten years of his life. Everywhere he went, he smelled it -- that sharp, metallic memory that had splattered the walls of his mind with residue no amount of scrubbing could've removed. He had been powerless then, without sight. His eyes had been different from his brother's, and it was the difference that made him helpless and weak; the difference he struggled to breach.

(But even before then, he had struggled; even before all that copper, he had tried. To grow stronger and faster and more powerful. More like Itachi. Less like himself.)

And so he'd taken hands that were too small and forced his eyes open, having lived in a world for too long with eyes that saw but had no vision.

In the end, Sasuke found himself stumbling right back to the very beginning, losing all he'd worked so hard to gain, both sight and vision. And all he had left that still belonged to him was the pain that throbbed right through him. It started at his eyes and shot to his chest (he never knew that his eyes and heart were connected). Then something clawed its way up within him and it was only the familiar warm scent of Kakashi and the strength of his arms that kept him grounded.

He didn't understand it, why Kakashi's very presence gave him such reassurance, but had no time to stop and analyze it when he felt the presence of _someone_ \-- probably the medic -- threatening to encroach upon his personal space with a touch.

"Don't!" he snapped, flinching back against the solid wall of warmth behind him. The presence withdrew.

Sasuke was really starting to hate this.

Kakashi sighed as he sensed the full spectrum of emotions swirling fast and frantic through the boy. He leveled the retrieval team with a single look that informed them he would handle it, then turned with Sasuke so that all they could see was Kakashi's back.

It would be easier to deal with Sasuke if no one else could see him. Kakashi could visibly see the vulnerability that threatened to swallow up his bravado. Sasuke's breaths came out slow and shaky, as though that kind of breathing would keep his walls from crumbling, when they were already threatening collapse under the weight of the blood smearing his fingers. But Kakashi refused to let him fall, not when they'd already come this far.

He turned him slowly, taking in the way Sasuke's hand slightly trembled as he pressed it against his eyes. Even now, he was trying to be strong. Even know, he was trying to hold up the weight of the world with his hands.

"Let me see it," Kakashi said softly, wanting to assess the extent of the damage, but Sasuke only ended up tightening the press of his fingers against his face instead. Kakashi let out a slow breath as he watched the boy's fingers shake harder under the pressure. Then he reached out -- his fingers brushed against Sasuke's forearm, wrapped around his wrist, and lightly pulled it away from his face.

There was only slight resistance.

Sasuke kept his eyes tightly closed, lashes wet with sticky red moisture that streaked to the top of his cheekbones in angry, glistening smears.

"Let me see it," Kakashi repeated, and this time, it was an order.

Sasuke had to steel himself with a slow exhale. The hand Kakashi was holding tensed, and his fingers bunched into a fist. He let out a painful hiss as his eyes cracked open a little, the pain clearly making it impossible for him to open them completely. His gaze was red-rimmed and unfocused, sclera broken up by angry veins and filmy red effusion, which gathered at the corners of his eyes before leaking out.

He looked like he was crying, but the tears were the wrong color.

Kakashi had to slowly draw in a breath of winter to give him the resolve he needed to not look away from this, not even for a moment. He took in the way Sasuke's brow pinched with pain, how his eyes struggled to close against the pressure of keeping them open. Noticed, too, how the boy was breathing a little more shallowly, trying to keep the threads of self-control from unraveling.

"Can you see?" Kakashi asked softly, though he wasn't exactly expecting an optimistic answer.

Sasuke bit down a little at his lower lip and replied, "Yes," even though his eyes remained hazy and unfocused. It wasn't completely a lie, but not the entire truth either. Kakashi could tell from the way Sasuke's left eyebrow slightly tilted.

It always did that when he lied.

But half-truths made it easier for Sasuke to handle his inability to see anything beyond blurry shapes dripped in shades of red. Kakashi was a smear of dark crimson and vermillion splashed against a backdrop steeped in pain that not only stabbed but burned, prickling at his eyes and tearing away at the surface. The blur seemed to come closer and he flinched slightly when he felt the rough calloused warmth of Kakashi's thumb brushing across his cheek lightly, moisture spreading across his skin slowly.

Then it was gone.

And somehow that warmth felt comforting, however fleeting.

"Let the medic do something about this," Kakashi said, trying to keep his voice even and reassuring, as his gaze moved over the boy's face. Sasuke snapped his eyes shut once more, squeezing out more drops that luridly carved tracks down his cheeks, beading along his jaw and dripping towards the apex of his chin; his body tightened with tension at the very suggestion.

But when Kakashi repeated himself again softly, punctuating his words with a hand curling around a shoulder, Sasuke let out a slow, shaky breath heavy with resignation. Then, he schooled his features into a blank canvas.

Once Kakashi was certain that Sasuke would cooperate, he waved the medic over, and watched as she worked diligently with a frown. Retina detachment, she murmured, and his optical nerve was severely deteriorating and separating from its chakra stream; not even the best medical ninjutsu would be able to repair that kind of damage. Kakashi watched Sasuke closely, noticing how he grit his teeth and clenched his jaw as his weaknessses were parlayed in careful detail.

And then it suddenly made sense -- why Kakashi had found Sasuke crumpled over a log drifting down the river; why Sasuke'd attempted to infiltrate a military compound. Snow Country's military was known for its technology -- if Sasuke's eyesight was deteriorating and there was something that he wanted from that compound--

Kakashi silently ruminated as he watched the medic test Sasuke's vision. The boy scowled and blinked and responded with flatly-given answers.

"Sasuke," he called his former student over, once the medic had cleared him for travel. Kakashi turned to the retrieval team. "Give us a moment," he requested, and without waiting for an answer, led Sasuke out of hearing distance. Sasuke looked up at him with an expression both supicious and carefully guarded. His features were impassive, any shred of emotion drained away and carefully locked up within him.

"That thing you want," Kakashi began, and Sasuke slightly flinched, the reaction passing so quickly that Kakashi might've missed it if he hadn't been looking for it. Sasuke's brow drew together then, waiting almost cautiously for Kakashi's next words. "Is it for your vision?"

He watched as the intensity of Sasuke's gaze wavered and broke, then slid to the side.

That was answer enough.

~ 

"My, how many years has it been, Kakashi-san? And Sasuke-kun, too! I wasn't expecting _you_ ," Empress Koyuki practically cooed as Sasuke tried his best not to bristle when the empress started to run her hands all over his broad shoulders and hair. "You certainly have grown up, haven't you."

Kakashi did his best to keep a straight face, which really wasn't that hard with his mask's assistance. He watched as the empress's bejeweled fingers moved across Sasuke's back, mapping the difference between boy and man with light, gentle touches. Sasuke's eyes had narrowed almost into slits, but then he huffed out a breath and closed his eyes entirely as Empress Koyuki began to smooth out pieces of his hair that perpetually seemed to stick in every which direction.

(What a darling, darling boy indeed, but no, he wasn't a _boy_ anymore, was he? Cue the sound of coy feminine laughter, suppressed behind a sleeve.)

"...and you've gotten so tall, too!" she finally finished, and stepped back to observe him. Sasuke blew a puff of air up at his bangs to get them out of his eyes -- the empress had managed to screw his hair up enough that he now had black glossy razors cutting across his line of vision.

Kakashi almost wished he had a way to capture the boy's expression -- drawn into a petulant scowl the moment the empress turned her back on him. How adorable, really.

"Sasuke-kun certainly has grown, hasn't he," Kakashi drawled, his smile arcing his eye when he felt the sharp prickliness of Sasuke's annoyance directed his way. He considered ruffling the black head of hair, but wasn't sure what Sasuke would do if he tried, so kept his hand safely at his side instead.

The empress made an emphatic sound of agreement before turning her eyes onto him. "And you haven't aged a day, have you, Kakashi-sa~n?"

Kakashi did his best to keep his expression stoic, and could feel the prickliness at his side turn into smug amusement. He didn't have to look to know that Sasuke had a smirk curling over his features. And he was absolutely certain the boy was thoroughly entertained when the empress decided it was Kakashi's turn for inspection. Apparently the empress had grown more affectionate over the years. 

Kakashi could almost swear her hand grazed over his ass. _Far_ more affectionate.

"Ahh." He managed a laugh and hoped it wasn't too uncomfortable. "That's just because I wear a mask."

"Well, you could always take it off, you know."  And she probably wasn't referring to just his mask, either.

"Mm, poor health. I'd catch a cold." Kakashi kept on smiling in a way that felt almost painful.

"What a pity," Empress Koyuki sighed, and an amused scoff quietly came from Sasuke's side of the room. 

"In any case, Empress, Sasuke-kun and I will be honored to serve Snow Country," Kakashi smoothly changed the subject to more familiar, comfortable territory and felt a wave of sudden indignation rise from Sasuke, which he pointedly ignored. "We will do everything in our power to assist you."

"I'm glad you made it here safely. Your wounds are not too serious, I hope." The empress's previous demeanor sharply shifted as she eased into her ruling role. For a moment, Kakashi remembered the little girl who had uncontrollably cried as he escaped with her from the burning palace. She certainly had grown as well.

"I appreciate the concern. But your retrieval team did a very good job." Kakashi smiled then and inclined his head in a polite bow.

"Please be sure to visit the imperial doctor later; I would like to ensure that the injuries you receive in the line of duty for Snow Country are well taken care of. Snow Country is indebted to the ninja of Konoha, and we will make sure to give you priority treatment," the empress assured him.

"Ah, that is most generous of you, Empress," Kakashi hated how stilted his speech sounded when he had to speak like this to a monarch, and strained his smile a little more, keeping his head slightly inclined in the posture of humility before royalty. "But a shinobi is only a tool. I would prefer if you give me the same treatment as everyone else. I may be here on a provisional basis from Konoha, but in battle, my life has the same value as anyone else's--"

Before he could continue, Empress Koyuki huffed and gave a dismissive wave of a hand in his direction. "Enough with that drivel, I've heard and said the same exact same lines at least a hundred times. 'Shinobi are tools for the country,' 'shinobi serve with distinction' ... and that may be the truth, but Konoha has saved my life twice, and you were involved both times. Quite frankly, your life's worth more than the value you assign to it. So you _will_ accept priority treatment. As will Sasuke-kun."

Well, if that's how she was going to be, Kakashi could only bow in thanks. He had to reach a hand out and push Sasuke's head down as well. "Then we are most grateful for your generosity."

The Empress made a slight annoyed _tsk_ at that sight. " _That_ kind of formality isn't necessary, Kakashi-san. We're old friends, are we not?"

Sasuke smacked Kakashi's hand away with a scowl, lifting his chin back up, and Kakashi straightened up after him with a softer expression. "Only in the proper settings, Empress," he said, and she laughed.

"So before we finish this little act of our play, let me remind you that you have our troops and shinobi at your disposal. As you've been injured, I've requested a two day rest period for you to recover before you join the front lines. If there is anything you need at all, please let me know."

Kakashi was hesitant as he considered his options. If they had two days before they joined the front lines, with the proper support, they could feasibly re-infiltrate the compound and retrieve the item Sasuke needed. Kakashi was certain with or without him, Sasuke would try to obtain whatever it was that he wanted -- even at the risk of his own life, _again_. But Kakashi could understand; without his eyes, Sasuke's life would be rendered meaningless. Without sight, Sasuke wouldn't be able to fight. Certainly, he could train himself in the art of combat by training his other senses, but such a handicap was more likely to end up killing him. What would his life be like then, broken down and crippled in such a way?

Kakashi knew he'd be going against the rules. _And a ninja who doesn't follow the rules is trash, but a ninja who doesn't take care of his loved ones is even worse than trash._ Obito's voice echoed at the back of his mind, bright and filled with all the conviction in the world, saying that life couldn't be mapped out so easily by a book of rules. It was the complication that made up the space around the codes that mattered more than the codes themselves; it was how you negotiated the spacing and bridged the gaps that truly determined the value of your life.

It was learning that life was made up of moments in which you rose or fell; but only you had the power to change how that moment would play out.

Kakashi chose against the law of Konoha, chose in a way that could very well cost him his own life, or have him stripped of his title. But standing here next to a boy who had always needed him more than he'd ever known, Kakashi knew he couldn't simply pretend that he didn't see the need in dimming eyes, or the fear that clouded them; he couldn't turn away from the way Sasuke asked by his very refusal to ask him.

So Kakashi drew in a slow breath and looked right up at the empress. "That two day rest period will not be necessary, Empress. But I do have a request for a mission." When she motioned for him to continue, he began. "I received intelligence concerning the military compound that Sasuke-kun and I infiltrated."

There was a sharp spike of surprise from Sasuke's side, but he ignored it. "They are developing technology that we are interested in recovering. With your express permission, I request the assistance of your most capable ninja platoon in re-infiltrating that compound. I understand security will be far higher, and we might not find what we're looking for, as a large part of the compound was destroyed in our previous mission. But in the off-chance that it might still be there, I request, at least, a chance to recover it."

The waves of emotion that lapped against Kakashi's shores from Sasuke's seas started with a wave of disbelief that surged into anger, slammed down a moment later, before Sasuke violently drew his tide back in.

Kakashi couldn't read his emotions anymore.

The empress quietly considered his request for a moment. Surely, she was curious about what technology they were interested in; if they recovered anything, certainly, it should belong to Snow Country. But the Opposition had developed this technology, and Kakashi was the one requesting this mission. Kakashi, who had saved her first as a little girl, then once more six years ago. Kakashi, who was here again, to help turn the tides on the war that roiled within the country. It took only a moment of consideration before she responded. "Will the technology you are searching for be used as a weapon?"

Kakashi turned his gaze to Sasuke, who stared stonily ahead of him, expressionless, before directing his eye back to the empress. "No, it will not."

"And will I have Konoha's agreement that the technology will not be duplicated?"

"You have my word, Empress." Kakashi's word, not Konoha's.

The empress looked at him critically, then gave a slow nod of her head. "I will grant this mission," she began, and Sasuke might've stiffened a little more. "With one condition: if you do find the item you are searching for, Snow Country will have the right of refusal to grant you permission to take it out of the country. You must report in with it, first."

"It's technology that will improve my sight, Koyuki-sama." Kakashi finally admitted after a moment of reluctance, slipping in the empress's name to soften the request into one that was more personal. If he agreed to her terms, the mission could very well end up futile; it had to be performed without any predetermined conditions.

The empress's eyes widened for a moment in surprise, before softening in understanding. She smiled. "Then in that case, I hope you find what it is you're looking for. I will grant you this mission, and my only condition is that you come back with everyone alive."

Kakashi inclined his head in gratitude, just enough that it was polite, but not too formal. "I will do everything to keep the team safe, even at the cost of my life," and the way he said it might've been so serious that the empress broke out in soft laughter.

"Ah~h, Kakashi-san, you are always so fatalistic," she teased with a smile.

"I try," he responded lightly, with an arc of his eye.

~

Storms had a way of sneaking up on him when Sasuke wasn't looking.

Every time he thought he could relax a little and settle, a storm would suddenly find its way brewing across the clarity of his sky. This time, it was filled with too much lightning that struck down at his trees and tried to scorch the earth he stood on. This time, Sasuke grabbed the storm by his hands and started to rip it apart to pieces.

He couldn't understand what logic possibly dictated Kakashi's actions. He only knew the surge of too much thunder that slammed its fists against the pulp of his heart before the lightning struck and seared right through. And then the pressure built higher in his chest until it'd taken all of his self-control to keep it wound up inside.

The pressure built higher, then, and there was no more self-control to call his own.

His eyes scorched the air between himself and the man who had decided to take control over his life, and all the elements in it; the man who was now stealing his hope for vision. He trembled on the border of something so violent he could taste it at the back of his throat, a foul flavor that scraped across the tongue of his heart.

And as he watched Kakashi lazily start to undress for bed, saying _something_ about how Sasuke didn't have to worry now that they had a mission to recover what he wanted, acting completely unaffected, as though he hadn't just gone and stuck his hands back in Sasuke's life where they weren't wanted, the anger _confusion_ **tension** clawed screaming out his throat and shaped itself into hands shoving hard against Kakashi's chest.

"WHY DO YOU EVEN CARE?" Sasuke screamed, and the words felt more violent than his hands.

Kakashi staggered a foot back with the shove, taking it unguarded. Sasuke watched, infuriated, as that silver brow raised slightly with condescension.

"I shouldn't?" he asked, and it sounded almost innocent.

"IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!" Another shove had Kakashi staggering back a few more feet, but Sasuke refused to let him get too far away. He grabbed at the front of Kakashi's jounin sweater and bunched it between his fingers, then slammed the older man right into the wall with so much force, he felt Kakashi's breath come out in a soundless cough.

He pinned him there with his body, to make sure Kakashi couldn't go anywhere.

But after a moment of catching his breath, Kakashi didn't even seem a little concerned, as he only let that brow rise higher and calmly met Sasuke's furious gaze.

"It isn't?" he asked, and Sasuke fought the urge to hit him.

"You don't need to pity me," Sasuke said in a low growl, the lightning scorching harsher when Kakashi's eye merely curved into that fake arc.

"I'm not," he said, and suddenly, Sasuke was furious at how he could just smile at him and lie with fake sympathy that was really just a cover for condescension. He couldn't stand the way Kakashi could safely hide the truth behind a mask when Sasuke had to face him so honestly.

With a harsh, angry snarl, Sasuke reached up and ripped that cover right down. " _Quit it with the bullshit smile._ "

But then Kakashi just looked back down at him with a face that belied nothing but softness. Kakashi just looked back at him and all Sasuke could read in the nuances of his expression was the warmth of patient understanding. And he hated that expression, hated it because it didn't belong there.

Kakashi was supposed to be angry and angular and filled with arrogance. Kakashi was supposed to be patronizing and self-righteous and everything but tender.

Sasuke never knew a feeling like tenderness could be so violent until it tore its way right through him.

And then he was choking on some kind of nameless emotion that pounded its way up in him.

He slammed Kakashi against the wall again with conviction --"I LEFT!" -- then did it once more for good measure. "I FUCKING **_LEFT_**!"  Maybe if he slammed him hard enough, it would drive the tenderness out of his features.

But Kakashi only tried to catch his breath as he stared right back at him. Pressed so closely together by sheer violence, each time he took a breath, Sasuke felt it. The tenderness had fled Kakashi's face and found itself replaced by something so intense and soft at the same time, Sasuke didn't know what he was looking at. And didn't know why it made him feel the way it did.

Almost a little broken.

"You're not supposed to care," Sasuke whispered, and his voice sounded ragged.

Kakashi drew in a sharp breath that sounded painful as a tremble traveled through his body.  " _ **I know**_ ," he said, and his voice was choked, rough, broken all at once. And before Sasuke knew what was happening, large hands dug into his hips and the world was spinning-- the wall slammed the air out of him--

Then Kakashi's lips were violently crashing down, and stole his breath from him.

And in a sudden rush, Sasuke realized what that nameless something was.

* * *

  



	10. Catharsis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi'd wondered when and if he'd ever encounter his prodigal former student again, but never expected it to be quite like this.

Desperation.

It has a way of rising unexpected, burning through walls of solid conviction. Violent and angry and all-consuming, with need so powerful, it sweeps away any resistance, leaving only hunger in the powerful wake of destruction. It works its intent right into the blood, into the walls and rooms of the heart, slides itself starved into a breath, then grabs you by the throat and chokes its way out.

You've never known violence quite like this; never felt hunger quite like this.

The riptide's so powerful, it's stolen your breath, or maybe that's because you're too busy swallowing Sasuke's.

Hunger only ever serves a basic function; fueled by necessity, not desire. Or so you thought, until it formed itself in desperate breaths and crushing kisses. And then you just couldn't fucking get enough of it.

You press his slender body harder against the wall and keep him there with fingers digging into hips, ignoring the soft sound of protest that creeps up the boy's throat. Instead, you swallow it down with a kiss that bruises, and your mouths break apart and come together again, molding against each other in wet, hungry kisses that battle for dominance.

Pain flares at your lower lip when Sasuke's teeth come crushing down with a low growl, so you respond with a knee pressing between taut legs and encounter the heat of his arousal.

He sucks in a breath and drags his teeth across your lower lip. He's just as hungry as you, and that thought makes you smile.

And all that's left is pure sensation, and it's all you can do to not lose yourself in it.

Sasuke's skin feels so warm, almost hot; heated by too much fire; so unlike the skin you warmed on that first night when you found him floating down the river. He trembles when you drag calloused fingertips down over strong abdominal muscles, mapping the terrain of the boy's lean body with a gloved palm spreading over skin and committing it to memory, as your lips break free from a plush mouth and start to ghost its way towards a strong jaw.

You will remember this; every moment of it -- every tremble, every hoarse gasp, every heated look through a line of glossy black. How Sasuke's fingers sink into your hair and the tingles of pain ripple through your scalp when the boy fists his hands in silver strands and twists, then yanks, to drag your mouth up from where it traces his jaw.

You'll remember, too, how Sasuke gasps when he plunges his tongue into your hungry mouth and smirks in triumph, only to find that slick muscle captured by the soft crush of lips, then sucked on in such a way it drags out a reluctant sound that he refuses to completely let out.

Sasuke apparently doesn't like to make noise. 

But he doesn't have a choice in the matter.

Not when you capture his lower lip in between the sieve of your teeth, and suck so slowly, so roughly with a steady brush of tongue across the plumpness of it.

He breathes out against your mouth, a shaky hiss that's a half-moan, and then he yanks again at your hair, as though that action would somehow give him leverage, but instead, it just makes you _harder_ , so you slowly roll your hips against the slighter pair.

The action rubs fire against fire, and you fight back a groan that tries to make itself known when a particularly delicious undulation draws the fabric of your pants tight against a quickly swelling erection. And then his hand is grappling down the back of your shirt, trying to scrape for some control, and you arch against it when you feel soft leather and needy fingers plunge under the back of your shirt and against your spine.

Sasuke's fingers drag up your back, mapping out each vertebrae, moving divot by divot towards your neck.

It's as though he wants to learn, through his hands alone, what it is that makes you you; what shapes your spine and helps you stand, as though the exterior somehow reflects what you keep locked up within. But maybe if he can memorize how your spine bends and curves under strong, steady brushes of his fingers, he can somehow learn to read you.

But you're not so easy to memorize; your other hand suddenly moves from where it was on his hip, to dip under his knee and drag up his thigh, for a better angle to grind your trapped erections together. It's enough to make him scrunch up his eyes and drop his mouth apart in a soundless moan, and you only know this because you break the kiss at that second to look right at him.

His face is flushed, his hair a mess, and his lips are ruddy and swollen, parted in a gasp. There's a gossamer string of shared spit that webs between your mouths. Your tongue laps out and you break that thread, then slowly grind once more. Sasuke's lips part a little wider in a pant, and his lashes slowly rise to take you in with a gaze that doesn't ask, but demands _more_.

You can feel him throbbing through his pants, and then you can _smell_ him.

Sasuke smells warm and sweet and musky all at once, and it's all you can do to not sink to your knees and press your face against the source of that dizzying, ribald aroma.

His cock is starting to leak, and your mouth waters with the thought of tasting him.

But before you can make a decision, his hand curls around the back of your neck and pulls you right back to him. His mouth presses against yours with so much desperation that you sink easily into it, quickly growing drunk on the way he kisses -- rough and voracious.

And then you realize it was _this_ you've been fighting against since the moment you slipped into that bedroll and pressed your hearts together; since the moment you woke and first caught the scent of his arousal; since you tried to break him down by reteaching him all the lessons he never properly learned because you never properly taught them.

And now you're not sure if it's him or you that's coming apart with this uncontrollable need that knows no rationality.

It's not good for either one of you, but that stopped mattering the moment that you kissed him.

It's not good for either one of you, and all that's left is desperation.

Desperation not to stop, because if you do, you won't know what will happen -- if you'll lose him again by your rejection, or by his own self-realization. Desperation not to stop, to keep him here and make him yours; desperate to break him apart in the only way you know how -- by burying yourself in so deep, and filling him with your will.

It's violent, the way you kiss, because you _need_ to break him.

You need to make him come apart, and it doesn't matter how much you bruise him.

Your teeth scrape down his throat; it's incredible how his pulse surges up to meet your mouth -- his body is so hot, so responsive, to each roll of your hips, each swipe of your tongue. Sasuke tightens his leg around your waist, and arches up to meet you thrust for thrust; he rolls back his head to give you more leverage as one of his arms braces itself across the back of your shoulders.

Fabric whispers as it slides off a shoulder, and your lips find the spot where that seal once was. The very memory of it stirs up something so violent within you that you sink your teeth down into soft skin and create a new one. Your impulse spills over a shoulder, across a collarbone and up the side of his neck -- red, angry splotches that will darken into purple bruises.

Now he belongs a little more to you, so you feel a sense of satisfaction.

You reward him for allowing you to do this, by letting your lips grow gentle.

Sasuke's breaths come out in gasps as he writhes underneath you against the wall. He undulates his hips at a faster pace to try and increase the friction. His pants, and yours, are painfully constricting. Then you realize he hasn't moaned yet, so you start to change your game plan.

But then out of sheer desperation, Sasuke's hands find the back of your shirt and yank with so much force, the fabric rips apart in his fingers. You feel cool air against your spine, and softly chuckle.

You hadn't realized just how hungry he was.

So you nip softly at his collarbone and murmur lightly, "Mmm, Sasuke-kun, you only had to ask nicely."

He growls back in response and rolls his eyes, then keeps on pulling your shirt up. It's kind of cute how his eyebrows come together in a frown of intense concentration, as he tugs the fabric up your chest in his attempt to divest you of it.

Sasuke leans forward to try and get a better hold of it, but you push him back with a hand against his chest, and a pinch of his nipple that makes his body jump. Then, you pull back enough to take the shirt off.

Before you can get it up over your head, Sasuke's hands shove at your chest and you're taking stumbling steps back. And when the shirt finally comes off, taking your mask with it, Sasuke continues to push at you until you feel something hard bump at the back of your calves.

The bed catches your fall, and then Sasuke's straddling your lap, pressing his weight right down against the bulge in your pants, and pleasure sears up through you in a hot, silent wave of _fuck yes_. His hands push down on your shoulders to keep you in place, as your hands come up to his waist, and then he's crushing his ass down more against your cock and it feels so good, you lose yourself in it for a moment. 

You can get used to this, you think, as he slowly drags his rear up, down, then in a circle. Your lips part in a shuddered breath, and your eyes close. Sasuke's fingers push up at your hitai-ate, and then tugs it off. He's looking at you, you realize, taking in your expression. Flushed, one scarred eye firmly shut, the other a slit of pleasure. Your mouth is hanging open and it's glistening from when you slicked your tongue across the bottom lip.

Sasuke smirks. He likes what he sees. He likes the power he has over you. He grinds again, this time keeping the pressure hard and the tempo slow.

You almost groan, but catch yourself at the last moment. He does it again, and this time you fail to keep the sound in. It vibrates deep in your throat, and he inhales sharply at the sound of it. His eyes darken more, and then his hands fist your hair and jerk your head back. Sasuke's lips crush down on yours and your tongues collide, flicking and rubbing together before pulling away in wet gasps, and coming together once more in hungry, cloying kisses.

He's trying to devour you, it seems, but you won't let him.

Your fingers curl around the coarse purple rope and you find one end, then pull. The rope unravels around Sasuke's waist and with it, the fabric it holds up. It pools around his waist, and you blindly push it to the floor, letting your hands slip into the open folds of the yukata to run down the sides of his trim waist, unobstructed by excess accouterments. His skin is hot, smoother than yours, with occasional bumps of scar tissue.

You wonder if he likes the way your gloves feel as they slide right over them.

Your hands glide down until they meet his waistline. Then, one traces to the center, and moves down to crush sweetly against the bulge straining fabric. It pulls out a soft hiss from Sasuke that tickles against your lips. He's abruptly stopped moving, even stopped kissing, and you smirk against his mouth, then give his cock a slow squeeze through his pants, feeling more moisture seep through the coarse fabric under your fingers.

Sasuke probably hasn't had too many bed partners and isn't used to someone else touching him like this. He inhales too quickly through his nose and chokes on what sounds like a moan.

Your smirk widens as you break the kiss, and you do it again, this time starting from the heavy base of where his balls are most constricted by his pants, then traveling up in a slow rub of your palm pressing along the underside of his erection, until you reach the head. This, you wrap your fingers around, and apply just enough pressure to squeeze a harsh exhalation and a soft, keening sound right out of him.

Now that's better.

Sasuke's brow has pulled together, and he's biting down on his lower lip. His expression looks so erotic and vulnerable all at once that it sends a sharp throb right to your cock, so you grind up a little against his ass, almost groaning at the friction. Warmth and pleasure travels through you with each undulation.

Sasuke makes another strange noise strangled at the back of his throat. You're determined to hear what that noise actually is, so you open up his pants and drop your gaze down to watch his cock emerge from its confinements. He looks just like you imagined, ruddy and glistening with the product of too much pent up desire. Translucent liquid gathers at the tip of his cock, pooling around his slit, and the smell of him is suddenly so overwhelming that you feel a little dizzy.

You bring your eye back up to Sasuke's face, then wrap one hand around his length, giving it a slow squeeze that forces the boy to sharply inhale. Then you start to pull in a torturously slow stroke, dragging your fingers all the way up to the leaking head. Your glove is going to smell like him now, but that doesn't stop you from wrapping your hand around the base of the head in a squeeze that has Sasuke sharply gasping as a little stream of liquid emerges through the slit and spills over, dripping down to your fingers. 

And you love how he feels in your hand, hard and silky and twitching lightly; love that you can feel his heartbeat racing through the thin layer of leather; love how his hips move uncontrollably in slight jerks whenever you stroke _just so_ ; and it drives you a little insane, how he manages to stay so quiet. The only vocal responses you've been able to get out of him have been variations of gasps and the occasional grunt -- and you know it has more to do with Sasuke being stubborn than with your ability to drag moans out.

It makes you smile a little, as frustrating as it is. Because you know you'll have to break down those walls first, and Sasuke's letting you do just that.

His breath trembles when you drag your hand up in a way you know he likes, and he's starting to thrust a little each time you move your hand. He's so slick now, dripping from too much stimulation, and the smell of him washes over you and you greedily breathe it in with starved inhalations; loving how it clings to the inside of your nose and the back of your throat, before spiraling down in hot twinges that only make you that much _harder_.

That thick, warm smell of him is so intoxicating, you _know_ you have to taste it. Your cock also feels like it's about to burst, and you need to give it some attention.

So you give Sasuke's cock one last stroke, then unwind your hand, and press your lips against his jaw as you give his thigh a squeeze.

"Stand up," you murmur, and he looks a little confused, but after a moment of hesitation, he draws off your lap and unsteadily rises to his feet.

You take the opportunity to undo your pants with one hand as your other finds traction on the boy's hip. He's watching as you draw him closer and press your lips against the soft skin right above a dark, glossy black patch of hair. He slightly jerks when you give that skin a nip with your teeth; then your lips travel down and your breath oozes out right over Sasuke's glistening length.

The humid heat makes him twitch as his hands come to settle on your shoulders.

A glance up reveals him staring down at you with wide, surprised eyes.

It's like Sasuke didn't expect this, or ever imagined in a million years that it could ever happen. His fingers curl around your shoulders with a little too much apprehension.

You chuckle, and let your breath glide over the head of his erection, then part your lips and let your tongue slowly lap at the dripping tip.

The taste of him fills your mouth, this mixture of saltysweet desire, and you nearly moan at simply tasting that licentious flavor. Sasuke's breath hitches above you, and turns into a gasp when you swirl your tongue around the tip slowly. And when you suck the glistening head into your mouth, a wall falls and a gasp flows into the sweetest moan you've ever heard -- something caught between a winded breath and a not-quite-whimper.

His fingers tighten on your shoulders as you let out a soft groan, shaping your mouth into a conduit of vibration. It draws out another one of those gasped moans from him, and makes you smirk around him, as you open your mouth wider and slowly start to swallow him down, taking in an inch at a time. Your tongue hungrily works along the sensitive underside of his length as you drag your lips to the head and begin focusing on the tip again.

Sasuke's legs start to tremble, and you take the opportunity as you swivel your tongue around the head in languid circles, to tug his pants down more, pushing them off his hips until they drop down neatly around his leg guards. Your own cock begs for release, and you appease it, moaning when you finally feel the constriction lift off your aching cock as it rises, unobstructed, through the folds of your pants.

The moan travels straight through the hard flesh in your mouth and sends Sasuke into another small, crazed paroxsym.

His nails bite into your skin as though he needs to hold onto you or lose himself entirely in sensation. As though if he doesn't hold on, he'll lose control of the situation.

But there's nothing to control when two fires come together in an explosion so hot, so fast, it burns through anything it touches in an unstoppable conflagration. There's only the heat of the flames as they suck up breaths and grow larger with each inhalation; as they rip through wall after wall with solid determination, licking over cool surfaces and igniting them. There's only this wet inferno parting its lips and swallowing down, inch by inch, the shape of Sasuke's control.

But when you take him down to the hilt with steady swallows that ease him in past the tight constriction of your throat, wrapping your lips firmly around the root of his arousal and _moan_ once you've completely engulfed him, that control unravels faster than the shudder that travels down his spine. And then a hoarse moan rips from his throat, uninhibited.

The pleasure you're giving him is so intense, Sasuke can't even hold his spine straight -- he shudders again and then hunches over, curling right over you. Trembling hands that need to find purchase on something, anything, travel down over the slopes of your shoulderblades and tug you forward, closer. His fingers slide up into the short hairs at the back of your head and you roll your tongue in a massage along the underside of his slick length, sucking slowly as you hum and pull out more moans from him.

He can't seem to stop these noises from escaping now, even though he tries. He sucks in a broken breath, but it fades into a sound of pleasure.

Soon, all that fills the air is a concupiscent soundtrack -- wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your throat; your occasional hums and encouraging groans; his gasps and moans and half-broken syllables of incomplete words that sometimes sound like a curse and other times like half your name, but it's always interrupted.

The fire burns a little too fast now; you hungrily suck and fuck him with your throat, your tongue, your mouth, as your hand pumps your own erection. The soft leather of your glove feels amazing around the silky slick skin of your cock. The texture is coarse, smooth, soft, but it's nothing like the heat of your mouth that has Sasuke reduced to trembles and moans.

You love seeing him like this. So open, not closed; so hot, not cold;  vulnerable, needy, _desperate_ (he's always been a little vulnerable, though he'd never admit it.) It softens the cut of his edges and makes him malleable, not hard, not unchangeable. He's got so much fire in him now, but he always has -- just wrapped up and tightly knotted. Maybe he was afraid of its intensity, so he kept it buried below the surface. You love that you've been able to unravel him to this point, to take him to this edge and make him come undone.

And when he gives a strangled sound that sounds like a " _Ka--haahh...",_ tightens his fingers in your hair, as his cock grows thicker in your throat and his balls start pulling up, you consider taking him over the edge for a moment.

But you haven't quite broken him yet, so you pull back instead to watch him, with your fingers tightly choking the base of his twitching length.

Sasuke makes a sound that's both indignant and needy.

And then you feel that familiar flash of anger lash out at you. It stabs down with prickly heat until you raise your eyes up.

He looks down at you with narrowed eyes, irritation written across his face. But it's only there for a flash, because the next moment he's biting down on his lower lip -- it doesn't take a genius to guess the reason for the change. You're looking up at him with a steady gaze and swollen lips, glistening with saliva and precome, slightly parted as though you want to take him back into your mouth. Perfectly debauched, and you used to be his teacher.

An expression like that is enough to quell any rising anger.

It's also enough to receive, in response, another twitch of the hard heat you hold before it slides into a full-body tremble.

Sasuke needs you so badly and that very thought makes you smile. Or maybe it's a smirk, but you're not sure, because you're paying too much attention to him.

You wait until the danger's passed and then slowly slip your fingers from the base of his cock to the tight stretch of skin behind his balls, pressing in and massaging slowly. Sasuke groans, and you do too, as you drag your own hand up your own length.

You take a breath, and steady yourself, then open your mouth to ask, "What do you want, Sasuke?" Because this isn't and hasn't been about you, and it's never been.

But he doesn't respond verbally, at least not in the way you want. He tightens his fingers a little in your hair and breathlessly murmurs a soft, "Nnngh..." from your fingers moving along that sweet spot behind his balls. That's not the answer you've been looking for, so you lean in again and let the heat of your tongue swirl over the ruddy head of his arousal. It draws a gasp out of Sasuke, and he tightens his fingers once more.

But you don't give him the relief he wants, and pull away instead. Again, he's leveled with a steady look and another question, "What do you _want_ , Sasuke?" This time, a little firmer.

He has to answer the question and tell you what he wants. Because as much as you want to break him, he has to want that for himself.

He's given some time to think as your mouth goes around him again, sucking slowly, softly, sweetly, almost too lightly for any kind of satisfaction. Sasuke's making all these ridiculously delicious strangled sounds, then _whimpers_ , and pants out, "I--" as your tongue swirls a little faster, and fingers massage deeper, what words at his lips dissolve into a strange jumble of sibilant sound and displaced vowels that probably make perfect sense to him. "you-- _nnghhhhahhh-- **fuck**._ " And then he's an incoherent mashup of ragged breath and broken sound all over again, so you finally pull back.

Your fingers wrap once more around the very root of him, then you lean back, look up at him, and hold him there steadily. He hisses, you stroke, and before you can ask him again, he finally lets out a low growl as he yanks your head back viciously with his fingers. It burns. " _Just fuck me already._ " The words are strained, as though forced out through the last remaining bars of that flimsy thing called control Sasuke once thought he had.

His eyes burn down on yours with self-assured conviction, and you feel a smirk grow around the edges of your lips.

Your fingers slide away from him to move up to his wrists. He trips slightly over the fabric pooled around his shin guards when you tug him back down towards your lap. Tugging out the hemline of his pants from his shin guards, then kicking out of them, he straddles you quickly as your mouths crash in a ferocious kiss. His breath, and yours, collide in a shared moan when your arousals rub together.

There's too much fire between you, and you're almost afraid it'll burn itself out too fast.

There's too much fire between you, and you need to make it last.

A languid kiss passes between you, then your hand slides from his wrist and under the open fold of his yukata. Your arm goes around his waist as you lie back with him, staving his hunger and quieting its roar by easing him into slower kisses. And when the fire's under control, you roll to trap him beneath you.

Settling between his legs and slowly letting the heat of your arousals collide once more, your fingers wrap around the doubled girth and slowly stroke. His eyebrows knit together and his lips part in a moan. Black hair spills around his head and cuts wildly across his eyes, so you lift your other hand up and gently brush those strands back before your lips descend to taste the gasp that escapes from Sasuke's throat.

You're not sure if you're really ready for this, even if your body wants it. You're not sure if he's ready for it either, so you reluctantly break the kiss. His cheek feels so hot when you take it in your palm and let your thumb trace over the cliff of a cheekbone that feels almost delicate. "You're sure," you say, and it's a confirmation that begs a question.

But then he glares at you like you're an idiot and you feel his legs wrap around your waist as his arms slip around your neck. They tighten and draw you in so fast, your hand is forced out by the pressure of your body molding against Sasuke's slender form, trapping your cock firmly against his.

His body tells you he wants this as badly as you do; his eyes tell you he wants _you_.

That makes all the difference.

Your face finds a home against the curve against his neck, and you breathe him in deeply once your nose finds itself pressed against the rhythm of his heart. He smells like fire and need and the spiciness of desire; like sweat and earth sliced apart with a dash of copper violence; like scorched ozone as the sun shatters and shreds its core with vengeance, then wraps itself up in a cold cocoon of wintry indifference. But winter always smelled too clean and crisp, too impersonal; Sasuke smells nothing like that at all.

He smells like you've always remembered him, warm with a touch of arrogance.

You never knew arrogance had a scent until you breathed in Sasuke.

It's a scent that's uniquely him, and one that tells a story; because the arrogance is never really just arrogance, but a storm of too much emotion. He keeps it bridled, tightly reined, by masking it with overconfidence. Because if he lets even a drop of truth slip out between the cracks, it might just break him.

And in those days when he had a goal, that storm within him served a purpose; it both reinforced and justified the strength of the shell he made of concrete conviction. That shell could not crack, would not break, regardless of the pressure exerted upon it. And when you tried to break your way through, he only doubled the layers.

You'd stopped too short before you reached the center; stopped just at the edge of breaking through when it got too personal. And then there was nothing left to break, because Sasuke had removed himself from the proximity of your fingers.

But he's here right now, ready and willing to accept whatever you want to give him. (Though you never, in a million years, would've considered _this_ , back then. It simply fell in the terrain of complete unacceptability.) But Sasuke's no longer that angry little boy -- that indignant, self-righteous, _stupid_ little boy who was once your student. He's grown into man, even if it's hard for you to admit it.

Even though he no longer has the same kind of fire burning for vengeance within him, Sasuke's still angry, still indignant, still stupid and self-righteous. Still so scared of trusting, of forming bonds that can be so easily broken. Still rejects that emotion known as _caring,_ but ends up doing it anyway. (You tried to do that too, and look how far it got you.)

And now he's looking up at you with a kind of trust that he's never once exhibited. He's looking up at you with such a vulnerably open expression, it makes something within you expand and contract painfully. Before you can think about the pain or contemplate its meaning, he reaches up and drags you down against his mouth in a kiss that turns torrid quickly.

 _I want you_ , his body says, as his tongue slides against yours and his fingers rake through your hair. _Now_ , he demands, with a strong roll of his hips and a bite to your lower lip.

You break the kiss slowly and shift your hips off of his so he doesn't notice that your erection has slightly waned, tempered down by those strange stabs of heat through your chest. The fire's burned awry, you think, and not in the right direction. "Mm, hold on... I need to get something..." You say, then extract yourself slowly from arms that don't want to let go.

But eventually they do, and you slide away, feeling Sasuke's eyes on you. It only takes a moment for you to go through your travel pack to find a jar of mineral oil. It was meant to be an emollient for your skin against the harsh elements of Snow Country -- not exactly the best thing for this, but it'll have to do.

A trail of pants, underwear, and shoes is left behind on your trip back to the bed. After a moment of thought, you drop the gloves too, just before you crawl back onto the mattress. Sasuke watches you through a half-lidded gaze as he tries to catch his breath. He's still dressed in his yukata, which is spread open around him on the bed in a mockery of tradition --  with his arm and leg guards still in place.

The mattress shifts under your weight as you crawl over his prone body, then drop your head down until your noses brush, close enough to feel his breath against yours. A smirk forms on your face when his lips part as your breath slowly drifts over them. He wants that infinitesimal space between your lips closed already. Impatient as always, really.

"Now, where were we again?" You murmur, and Sasuke just groans in frustration at the tone of your voice.

Sometimes, you just can't help it. He's so easy to frustrate, and it really _is_ cute, that puerile petulance that creeps into his features.

It makes you chuckle softly, and then you reward him by dripping your tongue into his mouth as your bodies mold together again. You feel a hand sweep up your back to your neck and the other one wrap around your waist as Sasuke arches against you. He sucks slowly, almost sensually on your tongue, and it induces a shudder.

The kiss breaks with a light nip of your teeth against his bottom lip, tugging it away from his teeth before letting it fall back in place with a wet smack, before coming back together again in another shared groan. You're breathing his air and he's breathing yours, and it's all set to the same tempo.

Oiled fingers find their way dipping under the weight of Sasuke's balls to rub at that stretch of skin that leads to the hot furrow of his ass. They massage slowly and languidly as your cocks slowly rub back and forth against each other; the sensation of slick, hot skin, and hardened flesh builds a sweltering heat between your bodies that sinks through the pores and curls deep within you.

The fire burns hotter than ever, and Sasuke's hips rock against the staccato of your fingers pressing against that unbelievably hot stretch of tight skin. He lets out a hiss against your lips when he feels a digit slip further down, and slowly encircle and press apart petals and grooves. He's incredibly tight, and you're already trembling at the thought of being buried in _that_ , when you've barely even slipped in the tip of your index finger.

You break the kiss with a soft pinch of teeth to lips before you draw back enough to watch him.

You will remember this; every moment of it -- the way Sasuke's usual haughty way of carrying himself breaks apart into something infinitely soft as his brow draws together and his eyes fall shut; how his lips part with a breathless gasp that crescendos into a moan when your finger slides in to the hilt; how his entire body arches below yours when you slide that digit out of the heat of that tight channel and push it back in, then _curl_. The sound he makes then is almost a whimper, and he writhes and bucks and rolls his head back against the pillow, fingers falling from you to grab at the blanket below him, knuckles turning white with the intensity of his grip.

He's trying not to lose himself in this, but he doesn't have a choice. Not when another finger is sliding in to spread him more. His cock jerks against yours, and the sensation ripples through his body and yours in a wave of motion -- Sasuke arches his spine and rocks down against the intrusion, sucking in a harsh gasp through his lips.  And then he suddenly grits his teeth, clenching his jaw to try and hold in the vibrations of a moan that wants to tear its way out. You can feel it, humming low in his chest, and when you curl, curl, _curl_ those fingers inside him, it breaks out of the jail of his throat and forms itself in pure, unbridled sound.

It's loud and shuddering, this vocalization of pleasure, and Sasuke would probably look and feel embarrassed by its very decibels, if the pleasure rocking though him wasn't as intense as you know it is -- it has to be, because he can't seem to _stop_ making those delicious noises between broken gasps each time you stab in your fingers.

He's fucking himself on your fingers now, and you think you might just come like this, with your fingers buried and curling within him, his slick cock rubbing and twitching against yours with each salacious roll of his hips.

_Fuck._

A quick motion eases your body off of his, and you settle back on your knees, watching him with lashes half-lowered over mismatched eyes as your fingers continue to plunge. You don't know how much more of this you can take -- your cock throbs with such intense pulses of heat, it's almost too much to handle. He's looking at you now with eyes darker than night, glossed with desperation; then watches as you twine your thumb and two fingers around the base of your cock to choke off a premature reaction.

And then your fingers curl again inside him, striking with precision at that molten spot within him, and he writhes, then thrashes slightly, before glaring at you with narrowed eyes.

"Do it, fucking do it already," he hisses out at you in a hoarse breath that fades into another moan when you scissor your fingers slightly, then drive them in with another slow curl.

You can't help but softly laugh. "You're always so impatient, Sasuke-kun," you tease lightly, groaning when you spread a liberal amount of oil over yourself.

The viscous substance makes your palm and fingers a glove of sensation, so you almost miss the widening of Sasuke's eyes. He looks surprised, and you attribute that expression to the thickness and length of what you hold in your hand, and can't help but smirk a little at the very thought that the sheer _size_ of you is what shocks him speechless -- so much so, that the anticipated retort of "Don't call me Sasuke-kun," doesn't come out of his mouth.

And just as well -- you might've teased him a little longer just for that.

Instead, you withdraw your fingers, watching as that tight pucker closes up, slightly pink and glistening from your ministrations.

You're not sure if you're ready for this, even as you prepare yourself for it -- what you're about to do might just destroy you both, and you need to make sure at least one of you can handle it. But you fit yourself between his legs, then start to press the slick head of your cock against that tight entrance as your eyes slide up to his face.

For a brief moment that tangles itself up in a heartbeat, you see that boy all over again -- that _stupid, indignant, and self-righteous_ boy you couldn't save; the one who hid himself so carefully behind those layers of concrete conviction that could not crack, would not break, regardless of the pressure you exerted upon him. And in the six years that followed without you there to watch, he has grown into someone finally ready to allow you into a space that has no walls, and is filled with the truth of his vulnerability and your own.

Even if this space is one you never expected to fill, there is no anger here, no vengeance, no obsessive goal in mind; no regrets, no what-ifs, no more looking back. There is only Sasuke's spine arching as the final wall falls, split apart by the heat of his body swallowing you up. He surrounds you with need, with uncontrollable desperation that clenches around you and drags you in, inch by shuddering inch. And when you're buried in so deep you can't possibly sink yourself in any further; buried in so deep, you feel you've almost lost yourself in him, you let your face fall back into the damp curve of his neck, and slowly inhale.

This time, arrogance smells different, but it never really is just arrogance.

This time you breathe in a storm of too much emotion.

It rises up through you and sinks back into him, then grabs on and drags you in deeper; you're so connected you're not sure if it's him or you that's causing its fury. It's swift, hot, indiscriminately destructive as it cracks, breaks, and rocks through your mutual foundations. It pounds itself in and steals your breath away, leaving only lightning and fire burning in its wake -- you forget where you end, and where he begins. 

And it all starts falling apart at that very moment -- the world comes apart at the seams, leaving only your conjoined bodies cradled in the fission of its divide. You shudder and choke out his name with lips pressed against his racing heart, and the seismic wave passes through you right into him, coming out of his mouth in a broken gasp. His entire existence is wrapped around you at this very moment -- with the heat of your cock filling him up; the strength of your heart pulsing deep within him.

There's nothing left for him to give up, save for his vulnerability.

And it's that vulnerable something about him that you want to save and break in the same instance.

So your hands hook under the supple backs of knees damp with sweat as you pull your hips back and draw your cock out with a groan; slippery muscles clench and fight to keep you buried deep inside. It's almost too much, but not enough at all.

Pulling your face out of his neck to look down at him, you drink in the sight of him through lashes drooping heavy over a mismatched gaze. Sasuke gives you a look that's as hungry as it's challenging, and then his lips curl into that smirk you know too well -- the one he makes when he thinks he's won, filled with too much hubris and provocation all at once ( _he has no idea how wrong he is_.)

A low growl rises and bursts with your fingers slamming his knees back against his chest. And when you fill him, it's violent; splitting him apart and driving into him with such force, pleasure _slams_ backwards into you, coiling hot in your belly, forcing out a groan and a strangled cry ( _and you're not sure who can claim ownership of either sound_ , _or if you should claim ownership of them both, since you're the one who caused it_ ), when his ass convulses tightly around your throbbing circumference. _It's too hot and the only thing stopping you from melting into him is the skin separating your bodies._ The slippery heat of his erection is trapped between your chests, and it rubs against your abdomen ( _you can picture it -- the crown flushed purple and swollen, glistening with the thick, clear product of his desire that leaks right out of it as it twitches and jerks without you even touching it_ ), leaving a slick trail in its wake when you roll your hips back, fingers tightening around the hollows of his knees. His hands scramble to find something to hold onto, but before they can reach your shoulders, you _pound_ in again with another brutal snap of hips, and the sound you make is drowned out by his.

Sasuke's head rolls back against the coverlet and he lets out a cry so loud, so uninhibited, you can't believe it's actually _Sasuke_ who's making it. Sasuke, who is normally so quiet and reserved; Sasuke who always suppresses anger into passive-aggressive silence or biting statements; Sasuke who only ever screams in battle -- cries out each time you _slam_ right into that tight, hot channel; fucking him so hard, it's like you want to _break_ him apart with the thickness of your cock.

They're loud, these sounds, hoarse and utterly primal. There's something uncontrolled and animalistic about it all, something that's _nothing_ like Sasuke; there's only these whimpers and these moans, these gasps and choked groans, rising and falling in decibels that reflect how _hard_ you thrust.

And sometimes, like now, it sounds like, " _Fuu--aahhhhh! Kakash--haah--hahh..._ " -- but he never quite finishes, words always interrupted by these guttural vocalizations; by skin slapping against skin; the heavy staccato of your balls swinging against his ass, with each deep thrust that drives right into that culmination of pleasure within him, forcing him higher and closer with every shuddering thrust that threatens to split him in half -- _and then he's moaning, nearly sobbing with pleasure, it's too much, too fast, and he wants-- needs control, struggling to take back what you've broken down by trying to reclaim the rhythm and the thrusts, the depth and the strength, but you hold him the fuck down so he can't move, can't rock back, can't meet you thrust for thrust or do **anything** but scrape your back and shoulders raw with hands gone mad--  
_  
" _FUUUUCK!_ "

You suddenly slow down, and he lets out an uncontrolled cry of rage and indignation, trying to move his hips, trying to _fuck_ himself over that edge, except you have him pinned, and you _don't let him._

"Tell me what you want, Sasuke."

He glares, and just tries to catch his breath. You pull out all the way, then slam in _hard,_ once. "-- _aahh!_ "

"Say it." And then you're fucking him so hard, he can barely get in a breath in between the maddening tempo-- you suddenly _stop_.

" _DON'T FUCKING STOP!_ " He growls, struggling under your grip, and you feel his ass tightening around you and _god you are so fucking close_.

"Why not?" Just for that, you pointedly don't move, even with your cock feeling like it's about to burst.

"Fuck you!"

"Ah, you want to try that?"

He just stares at you like you're fucking crazy (you already came to terms with the fact that you most definitely are, and it has nothing to do with yourself, and everything to do with him.)

"Mm..." You hum softly, and then rock into him nice and slow, far too casually for it to be anything really satisfying. He feels like an inferno around you; it's taking all your self-control to keep yourself from falling over that edge, so you slowly pull back out.

Sasuke lets out a groan of frustration and huffs out an angry breath, then glares up at you, hands moving over your hips to clutch your ass. "Kakashi... if you don't finish what you started, I'm going to _kill_ you," he growls, and you almost laugh, except he suddenly _slams_ you back into him with all his strength, a hoarse cry leaving both of you at the sensation of your cock driving back in so deep, so hard--

Hips slam against hips, sweat so hot, so thick; the pungent smell of sex overpowering and there's nothing but this; nothing but him and you, and the world you make between you, spilling out of you and into him, then back again in a cycle that never ends ( _it's always cycles, isn't it_ ) -- you lean back on your knees, watch him struggle as you pin him down with steady pressure on his legs and fuck him into the mattress, cock thrusting hard, hard, _harder_ in and out of that tight asshole so fast, so raw, _he's going to be bruised and sore and maybe a little swollen tomorrow_ \--

But it feels so fucking _good,_ and the pleasure is so intense, this knot of hot sensation growing out of control, and he's panting, and you're panting, and the sounds you both make are nearly as deafening as your pulse in your ears; as lewd as the sounds of your oiled cock ramming in and out -- short, fast bursts that have him going, " _Hah..hah...hah..._ " -- then long, driving thrusts that reward you with loud, sharp bursts of sheer _pleasure_ vocalized in hoarse tones.

" _AHH! Fu--fuckkk..._ I _..._ I _can't..._ " _take it anymore_ , you finish his sentence mentally for him, seeing that pretty red flush spread out all over him-- _he's convulsing and clenching around you so strongly, walls shuddering as you slam, slam, slam--_ and then his hand is on his beautiful twitching cock drowned in a thick pool of its own juices, so you let go of one of his legs to slap away his hand, taking over for him instead. He's so hard, so slick, and hot in your hand as you match the rhythm of each stroke with your tempo-- _and he goes fucking crazy, his body a ribbon of motion, moving and shaking under yours-- too hot, you're gonna come, you're gonna fuckin--_

It's too much, too hot, too everything at once -- it quivers then bursts, and nothing else exists in this world but Sasuke-- so beautiful, this boy, so damaged and perfect and flawed all at once, so very everything and nothing, all in the same breath, and at this very moment there's only this, nothing but him, this _heat_ , and the intermingled sound of two hearts clashing in a cacophony of a unified pulse racing too fast-- _he screams, arches, thrashes under you, contracting so hard, so violently, the pleasure is too large-- liquid **sensation** heat fucking explodes within you and all you know is this, this feeling that's too big, and you think you're screaming but you don't know if you are or not because you're coming so hard, filling him with hot wave after wave of come, and it just goes on and on and doesn't stop, doesn't stop, doesn't stop-- _there's only this catharsis, this endless wave of destruction, and it's all broken apart.

All that's left is the sound of his heart, beating louder than your own.

~

  


* * *

**A/N:** Desire, desperation, hunger, need -- these are all tricky things to write about, as is sex. I didn't want to write this chapter like a PWP -- it was important for me to plunge the reader into Kakashi's mind and give them everything he sees, experiences, and feels in a way that forces the reader to be part of what is going on and take an active role. For some people, something like this is dangerous, violating, and even uncomfortable. If you are one of those people, unfortunately, there is no other way this chapter would've worked correctly. I know, because I initially wrote _three_ different versions in three different point of views, and had five readers check it.

In the end, I realized that even if this makes you a little uncomfortable, what's happening here is so powerful and meaningful, that it _has_ to be like this. If it doesn't work for you, I'm sorry. I wouldn't have written it any other way. I simply wouldn't have been able to.

This moment is more about Kakashi than it is about Sasuke, even though the story, at its very core, is _all_ about Sasuke, whose mind we've spent more time in throughout the duration of _IH_. In many ways, this chapter is a culmination of everything that has occurred in the past nine chapters. It's about so many things -- ranging from love to destruction. (Though I'll leave it up to you to figure out where everything is and what it all really means, because nothing is quite what it seems on the surface -- you have to look underneath the underneath.)

I experimented quite a lot with structure, prosepoetry, form, and delivery. And I struggled with myself all throughout writing this -- it was very difficult for me to work through it, as someone who doesn't have much experience writing this kind of sex in fiction (and to be honest, I'm not sure if I'm happy with it...) And while this chapter is all about sex, the sex isn't nearly as important as the things that go on _around_ the sex. While sex is hot and great, I don't feel it is as important as what this entire act, this process, ultimately accomplishes.

In any case, thank you all for reading this far -- we're about two chapters, maybe three, from the end! It's been quite the whirlwind, and I have a lot of people thank, especially my beta editor, **[](http://kaorismash.livejournal.com/profile)[**kaorismash**](http://kaorismash.livejournal.com/)** , who owns _IH_ as much as I do. I also have to thank quite a lot of readers: **[](http://imlikat.livejournal.com/profile)[**imlikat**](http://imlikat.livejournal.com/)** , **[](http://shinobigonewild.livejournal.com/profile)[**shinobigonewild**](http://shinobigonewild.livejournal.com/)** , **[](http://idle-ramblingsx.livejournal.com/profile)[**idle_ramblingsx**](http://idle-ramblingsx.livejournal.com/)** , and **[](http://frackin-sweet.livejournal.com/profile)[**frackin_sweet**](http://frackin-sweet.livejournal.com/)**. You guys really helped me figure out my direction in this chapter. I hope the end result pleases you.

Last but not least, I want to **specially** thank **[](http://imlikat.livejournal.com/profile)[**imlikat**](http://imlikat.livejournal.com/)** for drawing this _gorgeous_ picture of Kakashi and Sasuke. I tried to color it, but it didn't finish in time, so I guess you guys will have to just enjoy it in black and white with some funky color textures for now. Thank you so much, imli -- you're the best!


	11. Tenderness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi'd wondered when and if he'd ever encounter his prodigal former student again, but never expected it to be quite like this.

Tenderness.

It fell like rain in summer, brushing lightly over skin in barely-there whispers, quiet and unassuming like the fine mist of warmth that settled humid and soft on Sasuke's face as he slept at night under the muted light of stars that watched his growth from child to man.

He could lose himself in it -- how it wrapped itself around him with two strong arms and a heart that beat steady against his back, lulling him in and out of dreams that were filled with the scent of strong earth and solid masculinity. He breathed it in and drank it down so it filled up all the knotted-up hollows and spaces inside himself that he never thought could be filled.

But then Kakashi looked at him with an expression so soft and gentle, the tenderness sliced right through each knot, each tangle. It slid itself in between the cracks and found a home inside him, then pulled apart the rope he held so tightly around him until he was left in pieces that Kakashi took in his hands and rearranged around him.

There was a rhythm to this, a silent echo.

He felt it before he recognized what it was, tickling up his neck and into the hollow behind his ear. The warmth of breath steamed over skin before soft lips grazed gently. Heat coiled up languidly within him, stirring slowly at the pit of his stomach before crawling its way up in him. It rose slowly, spreading through his body like petals weighed heavy by sleep, slowly unfurling towards the warmth of the sun.

Fingers fluttered over his hips, a tongue slowly swirled across his skin, and Sasuke's eyes snapped open when Kakashi's teeth lightly grazed over his pulse.

"Kaka--" Sasuke started to say his name, but then those lips were tracing over his jaw, fingers running so gently down his chest that it stole the last syllable from his mouth.  
     
It all felt so good, these sensations that were almost like the ones from the previous night, tingling his skin and trembling down his spine.

Kakashi's lips moved over his neck, sending warm shivers through his body. His fingers danced in slow arabesques across the twitching muscles of Sasuke's abdomen. His movements were filled with an open tenderness that wrapped around Sasuke in slow waves. The tenderness throbbed slowly through him, with Kakashi's body molding too perfectly against his. Then the heat of Kakashi's cock pressed against Sasuke's lower back, and it reminded him of the violence that pounded into him. Violence that left him sore and aching and _still wanting_.

But there was nothing violent about the way Kakashi touched him.

There was nothing normal about the way Kakashi kissed him.

It was all too tender, too slow, too soft; too gentle, too caring, not rough. Not violent and desperate and filled with all the things Sasuke normally associated with sex -- this act of tearing apart someone else's control just to claim them for yourself. And until last night, Sasuke'd only ever experienced sex that was only somewhat satisfying; sex that was more a struggle and a fight than it was an act of intimacy.

The violence was always hot, fast, and breathless; never intimate, never passionate, always somewhat distant from the mechanics.

Sasuke never knew violence could be so intimate until Kakashi kissed him. And then he wondered why he'd never experienced anything else like it.

Except now, Kakashi's mouth was mapping the contour of his shoulder, barely grazing over the surface. It was like he wanted to know every part of Sasuke's body, wanted to memorize and worship the frame that housed his spirit, because maybe if he knew it well enough, he would somehow understand him.

But Sasuke wasn't so easy to understand, and it was all so gentle, all so tender, that it made no _sense_.

Tenderness didn't belong in a life that had been so thoroughly broken; it died on the streets of Konoha when he was only seven. Tenderness was dark, quiet eyes that smiled up at the corners when Sasuke came home with scratches on his hands and knees and a scowl to match. Tenderness visited him in dreams, where he chased fireflies whose glow burnt out long before the break of dawn. Tenderness was the taste of icepops melting on hot summer days, and the gentle way the wind would caress the surface of his cheeks.

Tenderness didn't have any place in a life defined by vengeance.

So when Kakashi touched him in such a tender way, it felt more violent than violence.

It locked up the warmth inside him with a hasty knot, then ricocheted down his spine and drew rigidly into his limbs. Tension grew thick in his body and hardened the slowness of his breath into something sharp that prickled his lungs each time Sasuke tried to breathe. Kakashi's fingers slowly slid down towards that most sensitive part of his body, and Sasuke's hand snapped hard around the circumference of his wrist to stop him.

Kakashi's pulse throbbed languidly under his thumb. It was a gentle rhythm, a river flowing slowly, warmed by the summer sun.

It reminded him of smiles left behind in memories grown old -- watercolor recollections faded by the erosion of time. Sasuke didn't want to recall the things he left behind so long ago, when the only memory that mattered was one painted in red. But when he tried to draw away from the warmth that cleaved against him, Kakashi only tightened his arm around him.

"Relax." Kakashi said it so quietly, it came out as a whisper that slowly steamed over the curve of Sasuke's neck, and tickled down to his collarbone, sending a soft shiver through his frame. Sasuke wanted to push him away, wanted to shove down the heat rising and settling heavily in his chest.

But this feeling -- the heat of the body that was flush against his spine, comforting with its solid reassurance -- he didn’t need, or want, to pull away from that yet. Not when he could lie here and pretend that there was no world outside of this. Just like he had the previous night, lying under Kakashi's weight, pulse still racing, vision blurry, almost drunk on the residual sensations that still lingered in the aftermath of catharsis, the destruction of all he thought he knew but didn't. And nothing else mattered at that moment, not the reasons why he left or what happened in the years after -- his world had drawn in and formed itself within the arms that held him, the heartbeat that raced against his chest, and the scent of earthy masculinity that wrapped around him and filled him until it was all he breathed.

He exhaled, the motion a faint depression of his chest, and focused on the way Kakashi breathed, the way his heart steadily beat, thrumming, humming, slowly, strongly. Like the heat of the steam from the shower afterward, the wet, languid kisses that felt like a [dream](http://ka0richan.livejournal.com/73739.html). And he almost thought it wasn't happening, how Kakashi had lifted and carried him, when Sasuke was so exhausted all he could manage to do was barely keep his eyes open as soap suds slicked slowly over skin. He wanted to leave, but didn't want to go anywhere; couldn't, with Kakashi holding him there, within the circle of his arms, pressing down so heavy into his skin, memorizing the way their bodies fit against each other.

Sasuke closed his eyes, so very aware of the sigh tickling along the short strands of hair curled at his nape. The circle tightened, and he felt the press of Kakashi's nose against his neck. Lips grazed languidly in a soft brush, then Kakashi slowly breathed him in. And when he spoke, his voice was quiet, each word resonating gently against Sasuke's skin. "If you ever want to come home one day... home is still there."

Sasuke could only softly scoff, feeling his lips drag down in a frown, as he blankly, flatly repeated, "Home."

Home for Sasuke hadn't existed in so long. Home was a house filled with ghosts, a compound stained in blood and dust; the memory of his mother's hands, his father's frown, and his brother's fingers poking right between his eyebrows -- _"Sorry, Sasuke, maybe next time."_

Kakashi hummed in confirmation, and Sasuke felt the arm around him slightly tighten as the jounin repeated that word in a gentle breath. " _Home._ "

But home for Kakashi was Konoha, and Konoha was just a place Sasuke'd lived -- a place that tried to cover his eyes, that tried to silence the truth of its crimes. And in those weeks after Itachi's death, Sasuke wanted to destroy that place. Wanted to cut the tree to its root; tear down each branch, crush out each leaf, rip open the earth that held it in place, and bury it in the ashes of ghosts that wandered the streets Sasuke once called home. Even then, it wouldn't be enough, not until he'd eviscerated every seed, every sapling, every form of life that branded itself with the mark of the village that cursed his clan, his brother, himself.

But Pein had taken that pleasure from him, and destroyed Konoha for him.

When Sasuke came upon the village, it wasn't even a village but a crater of destruction; a hole carved into the earth that bore no recognition to his home. Not even the compound or its ghosts could be found in the rubble where Konoha once stood proud and tall. And he hadn't even been there to see it happen -- realizing too late this wasn't the kind of revenge that he wanted.

He couldn't help but feel that his desire to see Konoha in ashes resulted in its very destruction.

"Have you forgotten, Kakashi. I'm a Missing-nin," Sasuke reminded him. He expected the body behind him to go tense, to draw away in realizing the mistake of holding him so close. But Kakashi's lips pressed against his shoulder and Sasuke could swear he felt them curve into a smile, before the jounin murmured, "Mm, but the Rokudaime Hokage probably can do something about that..."

Sasuke scoffed again, this time a little harsher. "Naruto, huh." The flatly delivered acknowledgment was as incredulous as it was skeptical. Perhaps Naruto had finally taken his advice.

"Well, it hasn't happened yet, but when it does, you can probably come back," Kakashi continued lightly, and Sasuke wasn't sure what felt softer -- the fingers swirling across his chest or the breath against his throat. "Assuming the Rokudaime doesn't end up dragging you back himself."

A vague sound answered Kakashi as if in agreement. But it was doubtful, a touch sardonic. Kakashi must've interpreted it as a lack of faith, because he continued softly, "It's not easy to give up on you, Sasuke..." His voice sounded so soft, almost vulnerable at that moment, it was almost as though Kakashi was hesitant to admit it. His apprehension was because of the honesty in it that rang like a clarion in Sasuke's ears -- Naruto wasn't the only one who wasn't able to give up on him.

The realization wrenched and twisted up something inside of Sasuke, and suddenly everything started to make sense -- why Kakashi looked at him in such a soft way, why tenderness flooded every expression, every touch, every whispered word. He couldn't understand why, couldn't understand _how_ Kakashi never let go, never stopped believing in him when Sasuke had taken everything Kakashi had ever given him, ever taught him and ripped it apart to shreds.

The feeling grew and magnified, and suddenly it was too big and his chest was too small, too tight, and Sasuke didn't know what to think or how to respond, or if he should try to push Kakashi away again even if he knew he'd be pulled right back.

But before he could make a choice, Kakashi was talking again.

"Well, Sasuke... these are your options..." Kakashi shifted behind Sasuke as though to give him space. "Either you can continue doing what you've been doing.... and stay alone..." He suddenly found himself looking up at Kakashi's face, and there was that expression again, the one that was so tender around the edges, that settled softly into the angular lines of his face. Sasuke wanted to look away from what he saw in Kakashi's gaze, but found his attention caught when gentle fingers softly grazed against his cheek as they brushed black hair out of his eyes. And then he watched as Kakashi's face transformed with a smile that curved his lips and crinkled both eyes into two perfect arcs. "...or you can come back to a place where people still care about you and love you."

It was like being tied up in that tree all over again, except this time, Sasuke was held in place with the heat of fingertips running over his face and mismatched eyes looking at him in such an open, unguarded way. It felt so different from the first time Kakashi held him in place and spouted unrealistic notions of loyalty and bonds, because this time when Sasuke looked back, he could see the emotions that swirled in Kakashi's eyes -- something like hope and unconditional faith, emotions Sasuke had never been able to read before on Kakashi's face, when he'd always been so closed up and carefully held in, never allowing anyone to see inside him.

And then he realized that Kakashi had always been right -- there'd been no satisfaction in exacting vengeance. Not in Itachi's death, or in Konoha's destruction; not in cutting down the life of the man who'd started the cycle of devastation. Madara's death had been a necessary step on his road of justice, and Sasuke'd believed after bringing him down, he'd find the solace that had eluded his life from the moment he stepped into the Uchiha complex and the acrid scent of copper burnt itself into his lungs.

But there'd been no glory after his war, only emptiness and guilt that ate any satisfaction up, burnt up like the lives of his teammates, who each gave up their life to save him. And only he would ever feel their loss, no one would ever avenge their deaths -- they were thrown away lives whom no one loved, bodies that only doubled as weapons in war. He would have to carry their weight, their sacrifices for as long as he lived -- sacrifices made so he could fight a battle that was meant to turn wrong into right.

Sasuke understood too late what Itachi meant when he said that people lived their lives bound by what they accepted as correct and true. He'd lived his entire life believing that only vengeance was right, and in the end it all turned out so wrong that Sasuke had nothing left but a world that was steadily going black.

For years he wandered aimlessly, trying to understand what it meant to live. He had no home, no bonds, no family. He wasn't ready to die, but he didn't quite live; it wasn't much of a life, but a continued existence, one that was filled with mission after mission, and dreams of a life he could have had, in Konoha where the trees were always green, and the scent of warm bark mingled with damp earth. Where Naruto lay face-down in rice paddies, unapologetically covered in mud; where Sakura's willow-thin arms wrapped around his waist; where Kakashi's large, strong calloused hand brushed through his hair and caused an inexplicable tingling in his chest -- like the one that grew inside him now, spiraling and spreading out tendrils of warmth, flooding him with a sensation like the expression Kakashi wore on his face.

Something that felt a little like hope.

Konoha was a place that Sasuke once lived -- it wasn't home, and it never would be. But it was a place where he once dreamed, a place where people still cared, still loved him.

He looked up at the hope in Kakashi's eyes and made a sound that wasn't quite a yes, but it wasn't a scoff or a narrowing of eyes, or all the other ways Sasuke could've shot down the possibility of him coming back. Kakashi smiled in understanding, and Sasuke drank up the way the warmth lit up his face, like the sun as it sank into skin in summer, an expression that was once more as soft as it was tender.

Somehow that tenderness felt reassuring, and Sasuke decided it wasn't such a bad thing.

He studied how it softened the corners of Kakashi's eyes, how it made his face so expressive, and made it easy for Sasuke to read all the things Kakashi usually kept locked up within. It was strange, seeing him so open and exposed, looking down at him with eyes filled with hope and something else that made Sasuke feel warm. He seriously considered the lines of Kakashi's face, and slightly frowned as he pursed his lips, then brought up his fingers and pressed them softly against one corner of Kakashi's smile.

"You should smile more," he solemnly informed Kakashi.

Kakashi's eyes widened in surprise for a moment, and the next thing Sasuke knew, Kakashi suddenly burst out _laughing_. The laughter bubbled up melodious and unbridled, a full-bodied sound that Sasuke had never heard coming out of Kakashi before. He'd heard Kakashi laugh in the most condescending ways, heard him chuckle in soft amusement, knew the sound of Kakashi's smug snicker -- but this was the first time he'd ever heard Kakashi laugh like _this_. Honest, open laughter that shook Kakashi's shoulders and crinkled up his eyes in the most genuine way as it came spilling out of him in waves. It was so surprising and sounded so pleasant, that Sasuke couldn't help but feel his lips turn up at the corners. And then his lips parted ever so slightly, just enough to show a glimmer of teeth.

Kakashi's palm was warm as it framed one side of his face, and then he slowly started to lean in. "You should try it yourself, Sasuke-kun," he said, his voice lilting and fond and lightly jesting, his breath warm on Sasuke's lips.

Sasuke's brow pulled down in a frown, and his lips formed a little scowl. "Don't call me Sasuke-kun," he said flatly.

"Okay," Kakashi breathed. "Sasuke-kun." And then his lips captured Sasuke's in a soft kiss.

Tenderness formed like dew on leaves in the quiet of dawn before the sun rose, arching up towards the light shimmering in the horizon; an all-consuming sensation that grew with each kiss, and swelled each time tongues lightly teased and flicked in a slow, sensual dance that tremored on hope, on all the things that went unsaid, and blossomed with slow undulations.

Kakashi's mouth was as hot as his skin, and as fervent as the fingers that worshiped the terrain of Sasuke's body as it arched and strained with desire and need, wanting Kakashi again so badly. And his mouth fell open with broken breaths when Kakashi tasted and licked and plunged his tongue into the very core of his body, heat and pleasure flooding through him until the sensation grew so large that Sasuke couldn't take it. His body bucked and thrashed, fingers twisting in Kakashi's hair as his cries filled the air, unrestrained, as Kakashi kept on tasting him, his tongue plunging in and out and curling so deep, these vulgar kisses pressed against petals and grooves, petals and grooves that spread and swelled and gasped and bloomed.

It was too much, these sensations that filled him and left him breathless and desperate, half-formed words spilling out from his lips as Sasuke tugged and pulled and tried so very hard to stop the salacious parrying of Kakashi's tongue, telling him that it was enough, _enough_ \-- but Kakashi seemed to disagree, whispering words of patience and pressing him back down, fingers spreading him even more as he kissed and sucked, leaving Sasuke shaking on the edge of madness as he squeezed his eyes shut and rolled his head back, writhing and trying to escape this uncontrollable pleasure that wound up inside and pulled him apart where he was most tender.

And just when he thought he was going to go insane from it, unable to escape the grasp Kakashi had on him, fingers finally replaced that torturing slick muscle, and he nearly sobbed a note of relief and pleasure when they slowly curled within him. Then Kakashi's lips found that sensitive spot on his neck, kissing so softly it was as though he was asking for his forgiveness. And when their bodies finally joined together, Sasuke could only grab onto him, holding onto him with everything he had, because he was all he had left and all he could believe in, all he could trust in, when he had trusted in nothing and no one else.

But there was honesty in the tenderness that filled him and wrapped around him, and he could try his best to believe in it; to believe that Kakashi still believed in him, that he had enough hope for the both of them, that he would never give up on him, and wanted and needed him in a way no one else did.

There was nothing more but this, nothing else in the world but him, this man who had forced his way back into a life that didn't deserve him; picking up all the pieces of him, then stitching each one back in place; holding them in with the heat of his kiss and the strength of his arms that refused to let go, refused to give up when Sasuke'd given up on himself, and forced him to open up his eyes, to see the hope that steadily rose, hope that Sasuke hadn't felt in years. And all these emotions and sensations wound up inside him, growing far too large for the confines of his body, until it finally exploded wild within him in a burst of hot pleasure that tore its way through him, leaving him screaming as it consumed him, and then he was spilling all over his body as Kakashi hoarsely cried out and slammed into him, filling him, filling him, filling him-- _and then chakra glowed hot white, hotter than what filled him up inside, stabbing into him with a scream, slamming and ripping and tearing in, tangling up in waves of heat that pulsed and throbbed and burst open like the sun exploding so hot, spiraling out of control, roaring in a river flowing fast through blood, shooting through every synapse and nerve_ \-- his vision disintegrated into static noise as his breath cut short, and his heart raced fast, body jerking with seismic quakes as his chakra wound around Kakashi's, tangling, tangling, tangling.

Sasuke couldn't remember the last time he felt so free.

* * *

**A/N:** It has been quite the journey, writing _Illuminating Heaven_. We have finally reached the end! This chapter is essentially the last part of the narrative. The next chapter will function as the epilogue, and the final chapter for _Illuminating Heaven_. It will explain what happens after all of this, but doesn't continue the narrative the way the other chapters in the story did.

 _Illuminating Heaven_ is about loss and love, about second chances and hope. It's also about faith and trust, about never giving up on bonds and all the things that Kakashi believes in and holds true to his heart: precious companions are ones that must be held close, bonds must be cherished. 

Above all else, this is a story about gaining vision.

P.S. There's a hidden bonus chapter linked in this one!  


* * *


	12. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi'd wondered when and if he'd ever encounter his prodigal former student again, but never expected it to be quite like this. Set in Post-canon.

Freedom. It's something people dream about and never really think possible. The kind of thing that feels like flying. Birds take to the sky in flocks and leave behind the earth. Sometimes I wonder how something like that feels. When not even gravity can hold you down and bind you. Just an expanse of sky that stretches further than the eye can see and nothing to drag you back down and claim you as part of the world.

I'm trapped here in this cage too. Looking out between the cracks of light that spill through the bars. They say everyone lives like this, tethered to the ground. The world holds you in place the moment you are born into the mold you will become. They say there is no escape from the mud you find yourself rooted in, where your seeds are first sown.

But at night when they think no one's listening and everything is sleeping, I can hear their freedom. It's the kind that only takes place behind locked doors. Secretive, because it only belongs to them. Sometimes it's quiet like the southern breeze that rustles through the trees in leaf whispers. Other times it sounds more violent, trunks groaning and straining against hurricane winds. It's brutal sometimes, that freedom. Like a war.

Everyone talks about them when they have their backs turned. It's never about missions or the battlefield. I like to watch them, figuring out how they work. I think I know everything about them, but I could be wrong. I've spent this entire time sitting here, trying to understand how they tick. What it is about them that makes them so compelling that everyone can only find themselves drawn in, moths to flame. Maybe it's the tragic quality of it all. How it takes being broken to become whole.

I read them front to back, and turn them page by page. They never seem to notice, or they just don't care. Too wrapped up in each other to pay attention to the rest of the world that goes on around them, envious of what they have. Always looking in on them, when they never once look back.

I think they've found a way to uproot themselves from the mud they were born in. Maybe it's because of the freedom they have at night when they think no one's listening. Or maybe it's in the way they speak, while being completely silent. 

~

It took twelve months for the battle to be won.

Twelve months where they fought and bled, always standing side by side. Never too far out of sight, they watched each other with careful eyes. No one ever knew what it was they saw, two men who watched each other across the battlefield, communicating in red and black. Matching eyes that no one else had or really could understand.

There were whispers of blindness and the loss of eyes, but rumors were only just that. Gossip ran in rivulets through halls and barracks in hums that reached even the frontline camps. Rumors of missions across enemy lines, rumors of a compound burnt to dust, rumors of a crystal that made a boy's eyes so strong, the enemy issued orders to flee on sight. But some said that wasn't the story. It wasn't the crystal, but the man, who did it. The legend with the mismatched gaze, whose name everyone knew even if they never saw his face. They said he held power in his hands. The kind that could change fate.  


  


In another version of the story, the power wasn't in his hands, but in his eyes. In what he saw whenever he looked at the boy, or maybe it was that the boy was always looking at him. No one was ever really sure who was doing the looking or being watched, or what the world looked like through their matching eyes. They could only ever guess and wonder when each version of the truth always changed. Just like the people in them.

Sometimes it was a story about a pair of ninja who brought the world down with their eyes. Other times it was about a student and teacher whose bond was unlike anything anyone had ever seen. Some believed the truth was the kind that could never be spoken. Truth that was as intimate as the way they met each other's gaze.

~

He returned to Konoha as a hero, decorated. They had heard stories of his conquests and battles in the war that cleaved a country. There were rumors, too, about a boy who had gone missing so long ago. But whenever they asked him about those whispers, he only gave a little shrug and smile, then continued on in his unaffected way with his usual routine.

He walked down the smooth dirt-packed roads of the village he called home, one hand in the pocket of his pants and the other holding open a book. Even though he only looked at the world with half a gaze, he still kept on reading in his usual way as he wandered down the streets, breathing in the scents and all the memories that carried in the wind.

I like to watch him carefully whenever he passes by. He seems to have a different composure to him, but it's easily missed. There's a long distance look in his eyes now that never used to be there before, and sometimes when he thinks no one's looking, his expression grows so very soft. I wonder what he's thinking at those moments under the tree, when he sits with one eye opened looking out and seeing in.

He spends a lot of time talking with ghosts. It's like he thinks they can hear him when he speaks to names carved in stone. I never know what he's saying, because he speaks in silent words. Words that are loud in his head but no one ever hears. They can hear him, though, because of their very absence. It's the space they leave in his life that give them that ability to hear what he never says out loud in perfect clarity. I wonder what his voice sounds like to their absent ears. Or if the missing one he sometimes talks to can also hear.

~

The people in this village smile because they dream with open eyes.

They believe if they keep them closed, they might just miss the sunrise. And to them, the sunrise means everything.

There is nothing old in this village anymore, and there hasn't been for years. Even the buildings that once carried ghosts, venerated through time, have been rebuilt with stronger materials made out of younger trees. The old wood of the past had been cracking all those years, and it took being destroyed and broken down to understand the risks of timber too petrified to bend and flex the way trees do in the wind.

Hope. There is so much of it here. Swimming in the sun-spackled rivers with little laughs that soak up the smiles of parents sitting on banks, watching their children splash and wade through currents that ebb and flow around their sleek little bodies. Whistling between the trees in summer winds that always travel with and not against the many running through the forests with fluid, steady steps. They know where they are going.

I see it in the sweat and the strain of young boys and girls training under the summer sun, flying through graceful formations. Their eyes are eager and bright, like the couple sitting on the bench under the shade of the sycamore tree, sharing dango and tea, and the old couple sitting on their front porch watching them. It's in the back-and-forth rocking of their chairs as they creak over floorboards much younger than them, talking about what will be, while fondly remembering what was. No one notices how they hold hands. Both gentle and firm. Like the wind that carries the scent of laughter and moist earth over fields of green where the strength of the village lies, one arm folded under his head. His eyes are bluer than the sky and his hair is bright like sun. He's wondering what to say and if it's time. The young woman sitting next to him looks up at the same sky. She knows just what he's thinking even though he hasn't said a word. It's in the way her shoulders set, steady and strong. And how she clenches a fist around a single blade of grass.

I wonder if they ever noticed it in his eyes. Even if all they could ever see was only just one. I can see it lightening the shades of grey, watching quietly from where he stands. His body cuts a silhouette against the setting sun, and his posture is as it always is, relaxed and calm. I'm not sure how he can just stand there in such an unaffected way, one hand in his pocket, the other sliding his book away. He's looking down the hill at a young man who looks right back. His eyes are both dark and bright as he walks up in steady steps.

I always thought I knew how this would end. Feeling that I knew them better than they knew themselves. Watching them so carefully and analyzing every step, trying to figure out what made them them. Trying to explain all the things I saw. Loving them and chasing them this entire time. But they're not so easy to understand or to figure out. Even if I memorize their skin and count the bones that make up their spines. I wonder if they know, or if they'll ever say the words. Maybe they'll never say it aloud because it won't mean as much. Or maybe they'll say it just to hear it once. Or maybe they don't even realize the words are even there. But they don't have to say it, because it's already so loud, ringing and ringing like the echoes of steps back home.    


  


They're standing there quietly, framed by light. It's blinding trying to watch them now. Like looking right at the sun. One of them reaches up and pulls down a mask, then brushes his fingers against the side of a face. The other one is smiling, a little surprised. He's never seen this before. It's the first time.

A smile stretches wider than the sky, brighter than the light behind his back. 

It's too beautiful. Illuminating heaven.


	13. Afterword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi'd wondered when and if he'd ever encounter his prodigal former student again, but never expected it to be quite like this. Set in Post-canon.

She was the goddess of the sun and the source of all light, plunging the world into darkness when she sealed herself up in a cave. This is the myth that surrounds Amaterasu, which literally means "illuminating heaven." I was fascinated by the myth, and by the technique it inspired -- as well as the tragic side effects of its usage. I was interested in exploring blindness, understanding vision and the loss of sight as something that doesn't only occur optically.

Vision, sight, having the clarity to see -- these are things that are commonly taken for granted. But in _Naruto_ , Sasuke's sight, his vision of reality, his world, and his life are all so clouded by his need for revenge and his self-imposed role of the Avenger that it blinds him to all else. All the things we consider integral to life such as love, hope, dreams, bonds, friendship, and trust are not a part of the road Sasuke takes. He blindly follows the path Itachi lays out for him instead of choosing to open his eyes when Kakashi gives him that option. Essentially, Sasuke is a character who can't see what's right in front of him, and lives his entire life with his eyes stubbornly closed.

I wanted to examine a life that had been lived without true vision or sight. Sasuke's eyes never truly belong to him -- he lives most of his life, looking out of someone else's eyes and living out their vision. But it isn't until _Illuminating Heaven_ that he finally tries to regain his sight, just as his eyes are truly starting to fail.

It started as just an image. I saw them lying there in that bedroll, Kakashi holding Sasuke close to his chest. I wasn't sure if they were clothed or not, but I only knew one thing: Sasuke couldn't see. And that was how the story began. I didn't know where the plot would go or how it would end. I only knew that I had this image I had to somehow create.

I thought about all the different themes that I could possibly explore. And then I realized just how much potential there could be. I had a basic idea in mind that I couldn't get away from: Kakashi reteaching Sasuke all the things he'd never properly learned, breaking him just so he could put him back together the right way.

The narrative formed itself rather quickly after I determined that Snow Country would be the best setting for this particular story. This is a place of winter, where nothing ever grows -- a place that represents the barrenness of Sasuke's life, and the empty way in which he lives. It is also a place where Kakashi and Sasuke once helped to bring about Spring -- rebirth, new life, new beginnings. Essentially, it is a place of both endings and beginnings.

This story functions on so many different levels, each theme and motif representing, in some way, the characters or their relationship, as well as their struggles. I might have been too ambitious with it, by trying to put in so many things, and attempting to frame it through the modulation of themes and motifs that constantly reform themselves in new or repeated iterations throughout the entirety of the text, like a form of discursive music revolving around the single underlying theme of vision.

I have been incredibly fortunate to have had so much help along the way on this journey, and would like to thank all of my readers and reviewers who have given me encouragement and very valuable critique, especially **[](http://imlikat.livejournal.com/profile)[**imlikat**](http://imlikat.livejournal.com/)** , **[](http://frackin-sweet.livejournal.com/profile)[**frackin_sweet**](http://frackin-sweet.livejournal.com/)** , **[](http://idle-ramblingsx.livejournal.com/profile)[**idle_ramblingsx**](http://idle-ramblingsx.livejournal.com/)** , **[](http://sp-kathrine.livejournal.com/profile)[**sp_kathrine**](http://sp-kathrine.livejournal.com/)** , and **[](http://desfinado.livejournal.com/profile)[**desfinado**](http://desfinado.livejournal.com/)**. And most importantly, I would like to thank my _incredible_ beta editor, **[](http://kaorismash.livejournal.com/profile)[**kaorismash**](http://kaorismash.livejournal.com/)** for all of her insight, hard work, and dedication to this project. She has poured countless hours of love into helping me craft this story, and there have been so many late nights and early mornings where we spent doing nothing but writing and editing and working on making it as good as possible, chasing ridiculous deadlines that I arbitrarily set because I was afraid if I didn't write the story fast enough, I'd eventually forget how I wanted to tell it in the first place.

I could have attempted to write this as a story without any romance, examining the relationship between Kakashi and Sasuke as student and teacher, as opposed to lovers. However, I feel that Sasuke, who has lost everything and just about everyone in his life, as well as his purpose, his direction, his vision, is such a tragic and broken character that it would not have had the same impact. Sasuke's realization that Kakashi "still believed in him, that he had enough hope for the both of them, that he would never give up on him, and wanted and needed him in a way no one else did" is what changes him and compels him in such a profound way.

And while some people can say that Naruto might feel the same way about Sasuke, and wonder why I didn't write a story about Naruto saving Sasuke instead (besides the fact that it is not my favorite pairing, or even a pairing I really love), to me, Naruto's desire for Sasuke is one that is very selfish. He isn't interested in Sasuke because of who Sasuke is, but because Sasuke is the first person who ever truly acknowledges him, and is someone he considers a brother. This kind of love and motivation is too self-centered, whereas Kakashi's love for Sasuke is entirely selfless, and different, due to the pedagogical context in which they first form their relationship.

Naruto never fails Sasuke the way Kakashi does; certainly, it can be argued that Naruto fails to bring him home, but Kakashi fails to educate and teach Sasuke the right things that could have changed the entire course of his life. Of course, everyone will say that Naruto's influence on Sasuke runs so deep that Orochimaru determines that they must be separated, but Naruto is not in the role that Kakashi is in -- that of the educator, someone who is supposed to bestow wisdom, clarity, and guide his students onto the right path. Kakashi fails Sasuke in being able to fill that role in _Naruto_.

Had this been a story about Naruto and Sasuke, it would have been very different. Naruto would've continuously used force to shove all his beliefs into Sasuke and make him see what he believes in. He would've pried open Sasuke's eyes in a rather aggressive and violent way, whereas Kakashi gives Sasuke the _choice_ to decide. Certainly, Kakashi isn't exactly very gentle about making Sasuke relearn those lessons he never properly learned, but Sasuke is the one who's understanding the lessons as they are taught and consciously choosing whether or not to accept them. There is no force here, only options, and that is the difference between Kakashi and Naruto. Naruto loves Sasuke so much that he refuses to let him go. Kakashi loves Sasuke so much that he's willing to let him choose.

"You can be my unintended choice to live my life extended, you should be the one I'll always love. I'll be there as soon as I can, but I'm busy mending broken pieces of the life I had before." These words, from the song, "Unintended" by Muse, have been the underlying soundtrack throughout the entirety of this story. I have listened to this song on repeat for hours as I wrote, and feel it is very representative of what is going on the entire time in the narrative. Neither Kakashi or Sasuke ever expect their relationship to end up manifesting in such a way.

I still wonder how their story will really end. I don't think I'll ever really know for sure. I don't think they know, either.  
 __  
April 12, 2009

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Looking back at this piece three years later, it is unfortunate that I didn't spend more time in the earlier chapters thinking about prose style and narrative structure that I do invest quite a bit of time and thought in, in the later chapters. What is most unfortunate, however, is the fact that this fic largely can only now exist in an alternate post-canon given how drastically Sasuke has changed -- as well as elements in the canon that would have made this fic, and the way it is told, largely impossible. (The big fight between Kakashi and Sasuke, for example, is a big factor in this.) 
> 
> It is in this sense that I consider Sasuke's characterization in this fic to be largely anachronistic, and existing within its own time bubble. Or alternate reality. But if you're reading this note right now -- thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it in 2009. -- June 7, 2012


End file.
